The Fate of a FreeWill Angel
by facemygeneration
Summary: Destiel. Dean and Cas are stuck in an AR and don't remember their real lives. Meeting each other by chance, they click. But what happens when they realise it's not really their lives? My first fanfic, so don't be too disappointed. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. That would never end well.**

**Note to anyone reading, the chapters are going to be very short, I'm sorry. But there will be at least 7 chapters, so that's good at least!**

**This is my first fanfic, so please feel free to give me any constructive criticism of reviews. I'm just trying to get better, and I can't do that without help! Don't worry, I'm pretty tough, so don't be timid. Oh, and this is going to be a monster of a story. I really enjoy writing so prepare for pretty much a novel. Well okay, that's an exaggeration. But really, this is going to be very long.**

**Plot: This is a Destiel story. To give you a synopsis would sort of give away the plot, but for now let's all just agree that both Dean and Cas get stuck in an AR (which is not the same as an AU, thank you to skiing Pelican for that! :D) where they don't remember their old lives or each other. (Pretty much like the plot of It's a Terrible Life, but with different people and different ending morals)**

The Fate of a Free-Will Angel

Prologue

Castiel fell asleep that night to Casa Erotica. He wasn't actually watching it, and he never really would have, but he had changed in the last year. Although he turned it on to feel less lonely, the noise just reminded him how alone he actually was. He had an unhealthy amount of empty beer cans surrounding him; that was also a new development in his life. He guiltily remembered not paying for them, which reminded him that he had promised Gabriel he wouldn't drink as much that day. Cas hoped that he didn't come to check on him. He wondered how Dean was doing, but pushed the thought away. It was Dean's fault that Cas was this way. Cas used to be part of something grand, something incredible. Now he was practically human. How could something that had seemed so good end in this?

Chapter One

The dreadful, grating sound of Castiel's alarm clock escorted him into yet another day. He sat up slowly and observed his surroundings. He room was pristine and spotless like always, his father had always drilled perfection into his head as a child. Everything seemed to be in its place, and yet something felt off. He heard his stomach complain, and decided that he would wait until after breakfast to address this problem.

He padded into the kitchen, barely making any noise, and opened the fridge. Ground hamburger meat, bacon, steak, and leftover cheeseburgers. Typical.

He had loved red meat for as long as he could remember, but he had recently read somewhere that it could cause cancer, heart disease, and some other sickness that was hard to pronounce and sounded terrible. Castiel knew that he should limit the amount he ate, but it was as if he didn't have any control over it.

Silently chiding himself for his lack of willpower, Cas started to fry up copious amounts of bacon. It was strange, he thought, that he couldn't resist this but all other things didn't faze him in the slightest. He finished frying the bacon and walked into the next room: his studio.

The room was well-lit and cluttered with pictures, easels, boxes, and splatters of paint. He sat down on his favorite stool and put his bacon on the small end table. Just as he picked up his brush and was about to continue his latest painting, someone knocked on the door.

With a slightly bewildered look, he got up and began to walk to the door. Castiel couldn't remember the last time someone had knocked on his door. His dad never visited, and his brothers couldn't be bothered with him; they were much too busy with each other. He finally decided the last person must have been Meg. This realization made him a bit sad, but he brushed it off and opened the door.

"Hey, Cas," said a quiet but confident voice. Cas recognized it, but it took a second to register.

"_Sam?_ When did you… Why did you… How did you…" he stuttered, sounding like a complete idiot and not at all like himself.

Sam just laughed. "I got your address from Balthazar. He said you might still be here. You really dropped off the radar, you know."

"I, uh, well that was sort of the point. Do you, uh, want to come in, then?"

"Yeah…Do you have any beer? I've been dying for one the whole ride up," breezing past Cas, he continued to talk, "I'll be damned. Everything looks exactly the way it did at the old place. You're one neat son of a bitch, aren't you? The kitchen is to the left, right?" Sam asked casually, as if it hadn't been years since they last talked.

Shocked, and very confused, Castiel nodded and followed Sam back inside. To say he was curious about what was happening would be a massive understatement.

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Sam and Castiel sat across from each other at the lopsided kitchen table, neither saying anything aside from Sam's occasional gulps of beer. He didn't mind the silence. He remembered Cas and his quiet yet fierce personality. He knew that soon enough Cas would either mention something about it being awkward or throw out some candid demand asking why Sam was there.

As if on cue, Cas blurted out, "What are you doing here, Sam? It's been years and we haven't talked. What on earth could be so important that you need to see me now?"

Sam only smiled. He was glad Cas hadn't changed too much since the last time they saw each other. But remembering the subject of his visit, and his smile disappeared.

"Look, Cas. I know how you idolized Bobby and how he mentored you. It just makes it even more difficult to say what I'm trying to say. Cas, something happened…"

Cas knew what he was getting at, but he refused to let it in. He pretended he had no idea. He wasn't going to let Sam just sit there and tell him something had happened to Bobby. He wasn't even that old. How could he…No. He kept a straight, emotionless face. "I don't understand what you mean, Sam."

Sam knew that Cas _did_ understand, and that he was just in denial. He understood because the same thing happened to him just a month before. Bobby was his father after all. Sam knew Cas felt the same emotion, even if it was at a lesser magnitude.

_Dammit, this is too hard, _thought Sam. He continued anyway, "Oh God…" he muttered, "Okay, look. Bobby was walking back from teaching a night class. Someone jumped him. It was pretty dark and no one was around, so Bobby thought he could handle it himself. He tried to reason with him, and then he tried to overpower him, and then he tried to run for it. None of them worked. The man ended up getting pretty flustered. Bobby moved too suddenly, and the man was so nervous he pulled the trigger."

Castiel made a small, almost undetectable noise of shock and sadness. Sam kept going; he knew that if he didn't get through this Cas would be in denial all his life. after all, he almost had. "The man wasn't aiming for Bobby's head. Not really. But he had terrible aim, and that was just where it hit. The man rushed Bobby to the hospital and immediately told everything to the police. Bobby held on for a good day and a half, but almost no one is strong enough to survive a shot to the head. Cas, he died at 2:47 A.M. thirty five days ago."

Castiel's face was blank and impossible to read. Finally, after what seemed like half an hour of silence, he spoke in staggered, monotone speech, "I think it's best if you go, Sam. Thank you for coming. It was good to see you again."

Sam hesitated in his seat. Should he really leave Cas alone like this? But he knew that Cas was strong enough to handle it. He reluctantly got up. He gestured an offer for a hug, but Castiel just continued to sit, motionless. "Look, man. I'm really sorry that the first time we saw each other again had to be like this. Maybe we could meet up some other time…I'm so sorry, Cas."

And then he was gone, leaving Cas alone with only his thoughts and his paintings.

Being alone when you're grieving is normally not something that is advised. One's mind might send them to places they don't want to go, and to confront thoughts they never wanted to think about again. For Castiel, though, he just shut down. For two days he did nothing. For two days, he didn't eat, drink, sleep, or move.

Why, one might ask, is someone so depressed just from losing their college art teacher?

Bobby was much more than a teacher to Cas. He was the only one since his dad that had actually believed in him or given him a chance. He was someone to look up to and to learn from. He was the thing that kept Cas going through the hard times in his life, and there were plenty of those. It was as if the father that had left all those years ago, was reborn into this man, and he had a family again. Now it was taken away.

Three days later Castiel drank a glass of water. Four days later Castiel ate a piece of toast. Five days later Castiel took a walk to the park and sat for a while to reminisce. Six days later Castiel was sleeping again. Seven days later Castiel was painting again. Eight days later Castiel had gotten back into his daily schedule. Nine days later Castiel had fully recovered- physically, that is. Ten days later, Castiel realized what he had to do to recover emotionally.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much for reading. It's always a really nice feeling to know that someone bothered with your story besides yourself! If it wouldn't be to much toruble, reviews really _do_ help me get better. **

**So this chapter is a little longer, and all the next ones will be as well. I don't know what it was about starting off but this is my first fanfic and I couldn't seem to concentrate on one plot for too long. I'm getting better now, though, so thank you for powering through!**

Chapter Three

On the eleventh day since hearing the news of Bobby's death, Castiel woke up with a goal. He was going to drive back down to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and he was going to say goodbye to Bobby.

He got into his rental car. He didn't have his own car because he barely ever traveled and the amount of money they drain is unbelievable. Initial payment, gas, insurance. It was incredible how much of the human race would waste their money on things like that. He still didn't really understand it.

Of course, he couldn't act entirely self-righteous on this front, since he was paying money for the rental.

He turned onto the highway and was beginning to mentally prepare himself for a long day of driving, when he saw a sign for In-n-Out burger in the corner of his eye. _Well, I'm going to need fuel for this car ride, _he told himself, and took the exit toward the restaurant.

After buying a superfluous amount of hamburgers, Cas was back on his way. He made it to Sioux Falls by about 9:30, and crashed at a motel. The next day he would visit the University and pay his respects to the closest thing he had to a father.

This morning Castiel woke up without the need of alarm clock. The excitement of seeing the University for the first time in years and the dread of having to say goodbye to Bobby were weighing on him far too much for a deep sleep. After getting dressed he walked outside. It was colder than he had anticipated, so he put on a tan overcoat and then set off on his walk to the University.

He arrived there at precisely ten o'clock, just in time to see all the students hustling to their morning classes. He stopped to ask one of them where the Ancient Mythological Art was located, and then immediately headed in that direction. He would have to hurry if he wanted to walk in with the crowd, unnoticed. He knew that he technically shouldn't be sneaking into a class, he wanted to see who they had picked to replace Bobby.

He walked into the large auditorium and took a seat next to a brooding, scruffy boy. Many memories were coming back to Cas, even just walking into the room and sitting down. With a delayed sort of shock, he realized this was where he first met Sam and Bobby. And it happened just like it was happening now.

_Castiel had just arrived to college the day before and Ancient Mythological Art was the first class he had signed up for. He walked into the oversized auditorium nervously and found an empty seat next to a very tall boy._

"_Hey, man. I'm Sam," said the tall boy in a gentle yet commanding tone. _

"_Hello. My name is Castiel," he responded, a little uncomfortably._

_Sam smiled, and Cas couldn't help but notice how straight and white his teeth were. "That's my dad up there, the teacher, I mean. I don't actually like art, but I don't get to see him much if I don't take this class."_

_Although he thought it was a bit strange that Sam was telling me so much about himself so quickly, he found that he wanted to share something about himself as well. _

"_That's very kind of you. Most children wouldn't put that much effort into being with their fathers. I'm sure he appreciates it," Cas commented, avoiding talking about himself entirely. He was more of the listening type, than the talking. He enjoyed hearing other people's stories, but tried to keep his own to himself. Only when he felt very conflicted about something would Castiel tell his story; and even then, it would be to a priest during confession._

"_Yeah, I guess. Hey look, since you're new, why don't I show you around the campus after class. It must be confusing for you. It wouldn't be a bother." Said Sam, flashing Cas another one of those seemingly perfect smiles. _

"_Okay, thank you. You're very kind, Sam. I'm glad I chose to sit next to you." He said it in a slightly joking tone, but he really did mean it. He appreciated how kind Sam was being to him. It was nice to have someone there. He didn't like being alone. He wasn't used to it, for he had had so many brothers back home._

_After that Sam and Cas had walked around the campus for hours. They talked about everything from their pasts to their futures, and Castiel felt like he had found his first real friend. Sam, of course, felt like he had found more than that._

Castiel was snapped abruptly out of his reverie by a noise to his left. He turned and saw the strange little scruffy boy was speaking to him. "Hey, you! Are you okay? You've been zoning out for a while. The class is about to start."

"Oh, yes. Sorry. I…didn't get much sleep last night."

"It's all good. Just making sure. My name's Chuck, by the way," said the boy, holding out his hand.

"Hello, Chuck. My name is Castiel," he shook his hand, "Nice to meet you." Cas muttered, still a little distracted by his recent flashback. He was going to stop talking to this Chuck fellow after that, but then something struck him: he could get information out of this boy.

"So, Chuck," he started, over-nonchalantly, "Who teaches this class?"

"Now? Professor Winchester. But that's only because our last professor, Professor Singer, died about a month ago," recalled Chuck. At first Cas was shocked that someone could speak of Bobby's death so casually, but he had to remember that no one else besides Sam knew Bobby like he did. No one else could understand what he was going through.

"And…Professor Winchester…What's he like?" asked Cas. He was trying to sound informal about the whole thing, but what he really wanted was to sit Chuck down and make him tell Cas everything there was to know about this new teacher. But he didn't get the chance to ask any more questions, because Professor Winchester was about to arrive.

"He's actually pretty gre—" started Chuck, but was cut off by the professor walking into the auditorium with grandeur. Was he funny, or just cocky? Cas didn't think he could stand it if they had replaced Bobby with some random jackass.

Castiel peered at the professor closely. He was young; handsome, even. His cheekbones looked as if a professional sculpture had carved them there. He had hair the color of dark honey. He had eyes that reminded Cas of spring in Ireland. Cas had started off wanting to know about him for Bobby's sake, but then the professor smiled. Now Cas was looking at him for his own sake only.

"Morning, class. Nice of you to show up. I know it probably wasn't easy to leave your beds this early. It sure wasn't for me. But we're all here now, so why not learn about some ancient artists and try painting a little ourselves?"

His voice…One word and Cas was hypnotized. It was gruff and yet gentle. Loud and yet calm. He kept his face as emotionless as possible, but Cas had never been so distracted during a lecture in his entire life.

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

After the lecture, Cas knew he had to talk to this mysteriously enchanting professor. While everyone packed up their things and began to leave, Castiel stayed calmly in his seat and patiently waited.

"Did you need something?"

There it was. There was that voice again. For a second he couldn't even think about what he wanted to say. Trying to regain composure, but failing, Cas just blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "What I wanted is not of import. I came here to see you."

"Came here to see me, huh? Have we met before, or have you just fallen in love with me at first sight?" the mysterious man joked.

"What…uh…I don't understand what you mean!" exclaimed Cas, just a little bit too exuberantly.

The man laughed. It was a satisfying and sincere type of chuckle, and Castiel felt better about his social blunder almost immediately. "I'm Dean Winchester, but I guess you can call me Professor if you're into that." _Had Dean said that flirtatiously on purpose? Is my mind playing tricks on me? How was this stranger having such an effect on me?_ Cas wondered with frustration.

When he looked up and saw two stunning green eyes staring at him inquisitively, he realized that he had been thinking to himself for quite some time.

"I'm, uh…My name is Castiel. Or Cas. Either way. It doesn't matter," he finally managed to sputter out. _What am I even saying? _

Dean smiled and Cas thought his heart might melt. "Well Cas, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. How 'bout we talk over a burger and a beer?"

Cas smiled shyly and nodded. "I should like that." Because he was hungry, of course. Just because he was hungry.

The walk to the nearby diner brought back more memories than he could count. Although he wanted to get to know Dean, he couldn't help but be sucked into reminiscing on his past.

_After meeting for the first time in that first class, Sam and Castiel had become fast friends. They saw each other almost every day and they grew very close. A few months later they were taking a walk. They were actually walking where Cas and Dean were walking now, come to think of it._

"_So do you miss your family at all, Cas?" asked Sam, trying to engage the generally quiet Castiel in a meaningful conversation. It wasn't an easy task, but he did seem strangely open today._

"_Sometimes, but not recently. Not now. My brothers haven't been what you might call brotherly. I was the youngest, the least important. I was the always the kid brother. Usually, I would crave their attention. But now…"Cas trailed off._

"_Has something changed recently?"_

"_I've got a friend. I've got you. It's something I never had before, and it actually helps a great deal," Castiel looked up at Sam, suddenly very serious, "I thank you for that, Sam."_

_Sam looked back at Castiel, nodded, and looked down. He had to think of the most fitting way to say this. If it came out the wrong way, everything would be screwed up. _

"_Look man. We both are lucky to have each other. I mean, I'm just…I'm glad we are in each other's lives," Cas looked a little lost about where Sam was going with this, but patiently waited to hear what he had to say, "I guess I'm saying, I know our lives aren't just lollipops and candy canes, but I also know that mine is better when we're together. Cas, I…I think I love you."_

_Castiel was shocked. Although you never would be able to read it from his face, thousands of thoughts were running through his mind at what seemed like one thousand miles an hour. Sam didn't seem the type to be gay. He also didn't seem the type to fall for someone like Cas. Maybe this was some sort of strange-humored joke; he's just kidding. He didn't look kidding, though. In fact, he looked like he expected Cas to say something. But what?_

"_Sam…I'm not…" Cas started, but Sam waved his hand to stop him. He could tell just by Castiel's bewildered and all-around tired expression that he didn't feel the same way. Sam got up and walked back to their dorm, packing up his things. He thought he would save Cas from the confrontation, knowing how much he hated it. _

_Castiel got home just in time to see Sam turning the corner. He could tell just by his posture that Sam was crying, and Cas had never felt so guilty. He watched Sam disappear around the turn, knowing full well that it would be a long time until he saw him again, if he saw him at all._

"Hey, Cas. Sorry to interrupt your little trip down memory lane, but we're here," Dean quipped. He was half-joking, half wondering what it was that he was remembering. This nerdy-looking man in a trench coat was mysterious. But he was mysterious in the way that made Dean want to know more about him. A lot more.

They sat down at a table and a waitress immediately came to take their orders. Dean ordered his usual: a double cheeseburger and a beer to wash it down.

"I'll have a triple-decker burger; nothing on it. Please," Cas added as an afterthought.

Dean was surprised. He had expected this Castiel guy to eat a salad or something more…calm. This guy just looked to gentle for a triple-decker hamburger. Dean was confused, but he liked the contradiction. It was…intriguing.

"So you came all the way out here, don't you have something important to say?" Dean demanded suddenly, trying to sound gruff and detached. He was starting to feel odd about his interest in this man that had sparked so suddenly and without warning.

Castiel looked up, a little taken aback by this unexpected change in tone. Dean saw the hurt in his bright blue eyes. No matter how small and inconsequential the look was, Dean wished that he had never said it.

Dean began to sputter, "I mean…I didn't mean…" He felt very out of character. Luckily, Cas stopped him before he could embarrass himself too much more.

"Do not worry, Dean. I understand. I have intruded on your time alone. I will get to the point."

Castiel took a pause that may have seemed dramatic, but really he was just floundering for something to say. Cas did not, in fact, have a reason for talking to Dean; he only wanted to talk to the mysterious man in the auditorium a little more.

"I, uh…wanted to—" Cas started shakily, but fortunately was interrupted by the waitress bringing their food. Dean thanked the waitress and smiled, but it was more to himself than her. Castiel being so nervous was surprisingly endearing. He did wonder I _why_ he was so nervous, though.

Castiel was starving. He hadn't eaten since a nauseating breakfast at the motel. He grabbed his burger and was mid-way through an enormous bite when he saw Dean smirking across the table.

"Whaaorh?" Cas attempted through his mouthful of food. Now Dean was laughing outright— a perfectly amazing sound. Cas, having swallowed by now, began laughing too. Soon they were both laughing so hard that people were staring, but they didn't care.

The rest of the meal they discussed everything from art to their families. The topic of why Cas had come in the first place was completely forgotten. The fact that he came at all was enough explanation for the both of them. Both Dean and Cas were surprised as they thought they had never felt so completely comfortable around anyone in their entire lives.

"How long are you staying in town, Cas?" asked Dean, hoping it was longer rather than shorter.

"I planned on leaving tomorrow, but…"

"But…?" Dean asked a bit too quickly for it to only be curiosity.

"But… I might have found a reason to stay…" Cas finished shyly, with a smile so small Dean wondered if he was imagining it.

Dean, on the other hand, could barely contain his own smile. But he quickly regained control, for he wanted to ask a question, but wasn't sure how.

"You could crash at my apartment, until you're ready to leave," he began. He soon realized how it sounded and what it could imply. He tried to fix his social blunder, "Because the motel is so—"

"I would love to stay at your apartment, Dean Winchester," Cas interrupted. He now wore a full smile and he felt ecstatic to the point of bursting. He didn't know what was happening to him, but he didn't want it to stop.

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	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

After dinner, Dean hailed a cab and opened the door for Castiel. He knew he didn't have to, it wasn't as if Cas was a lady that Dean was trying to woo, but to him it seemed like the right thing to do. He went around and entered the car from the other side.

Cas blushed at this, but tried to hide it by turning away to the window when he spoke. "That was pleasant, Dean."

"Pleasant is my middle name," Dean smirked. _What did I just say? _he thought to himself. This man was a terrible influence on Dean's usual style and overconfidence. He felt like a middle school girl on her first date. Well not date. You know, rendezvous, or something. This wasn't a date. Dean was practically becoming a nervous wreck with all these conflicting thoughts.

Cas responded with a chuckle, "Well if you're Pleasant, than I'm Charming!"

And so for the rest of the car ride Dean and Cas made a serious of bad jokes. It soon became a competition of who could make the driver laugh the most. It was not an easy task. The driver, or Raphie, was not easily amused. Castiel had never felt much need for comedy or had any flair for it at all, but he tried because Dean seemed to find it extremely entertaining.

Once they got to Dean's apartment the cabbie had laughed seven times and Cas was finally getting the hang of making a joke, much to Dean's amusement. Dean had felt uneasy about Cas spending the night an hour before, but now he was looking forward to that night, and perhaps many more.

They walked side by side into the lobby of the apartment building. Castiel noted that it was very high-end for that town, and wondered how much Dean got paid. Bobby never had anything so extravagant. Thinking of Bobby brought up sharp pangs of guilt, so he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

About two seconds later, though, the thought could not have been further away. As they were walking, Dean and Castiel's hands snagged. Soon they were in an awkward sort of hand lock, and both of them, as if instructed by some unknown force, immediately stopped walking. They didn't look at each other, both were feeling much to embarrassed, but neither took their hands away.

Cas timidly started to move his hand. Dean took this as a sign that Castiel did not want to be touching him and began to pull his hand away quickly, but was stopped by something. Looking down, he saw a gentle yet surprisingly strong hand grabbing on tight to his, as if there were lives depending on it. Surprised by this new development, he looked up. He saw two bright blue eyes looking back at him, searching his face for a reaction, any reaction.

Dean twisted his hand around so that it was holding onto Castiel's in a perfect connection. Both of them felt as if their hands were meant to be there, together, in that heavenly display of affection. They looked down at how natural their hands being together seemed, and then looked up at each other. Both mouths pulled up into a smile, and both hearts beat like drums.

That accidental touch had turned into the moment that both of them would remember for the rest of their lives. It was their perfect snapshot, their fantasies, everything they could have wanted and more, and it was all wrapped up into thirty seconds and tied with a bow. They didn't want it to end, not ever.

Unfortunately, it did. The doorman came to the door and looked at them quizzically; Dean realized what had just happened. As if he was discovering he was naked in front of a room full of people, he face flushed bright red and he dropped Castiel's hand instantly. He greeted the doorman with his head bowed down and walked through the door quickly, making for the elevator.

Cas hesitated behind him, feeling more than just torn. He had never been so hurt by anything or anybody in his life. He didn't want to follow, but like the good little soldier that his dad had taught him to be, he showed none of it and proceeded with a stoic expression. He attempted a smile at the doorman, but it turned out to be more of a grimace, and trudged to the elevator with a dejected posture. Even the best soldiers have their breaking points.

That elevator ride held the largest amount of emotions that Castiel had ever experienced. Anger, resentment, shame, excitement, love, lust, and denial; and that was just to name a few. Cas couldn't decide whether he wanted to pretend the rejection had not happened and grab Dean's hand, maybe more, or if he wanted to bring it up and hurt Dean the way Dean had hurt him. His choice was decided for him, though, when Dean began to speak.

"Cas, I shouldn't have done that. I mean, I'm not…I'm not ashamed to be with you. You know that, right?"

Dean's tone was hopeful, pleading. Cas wanted so badly to forgive him, to kiss his lips and have everything be forgotten, but he couldn't. What Dean did cut Cas too deep to be forgiven by one simple apology.

Fighting off the oncoming threat of tears, Castiel answered him with emotion unlike anything he had experienced before. "No Dean. I don't know. You are sending me…mixed messages. I didn't know whether this is right or wrong either, but at least I knew what I wanted it to be. You don't seem to."

The elevator had arrived at the floor yet, but neither made any move to get out. They barely noticed; they were far too preoccupied with each other for anything else in the world to take effect on them.

"I didn't mean to…I just don't know what's up or down right now, Cas. Everything has gone to hell right now and I don't know how to deal. The only thing I do know is that I want you with me while I do, alright?"

The tears were coming; Cas could feel them. He had to get out of there fast. He clicked the elevator door for the lobby, and they began to move back down.

"Dean, I don't think I can. I don't know if I can trust you. I don't know the last thing about you. I—"

They arrived at the lobby, and the door opened. Cas looked at Dean sadly, and walked out. Dean didn't know what to do. He had never been in a situation like this before, but what he did know is that under no circumstances could he let Cas leave like this, now.

Almost sprinting to catch up, Dean grabbed hold of Castiel's arm. He spun him around so they were facing each other, Castiel's eyes full of surprise. Then turned around, peering over his shoulder.

"Hey, doorman! Yeah, you! Watch this!" Dean yelled, turning back to Cas, "I don't care if we have only known each other for a day, Cas. Time doesn't matter to me. I know how I feel about you right now, and I know what I want. You."

And with that, Dean grabbed the back of Castiel's head with both hands and pressed their faces together with a hungry lust. He tilted his head and pushed his mouth against Castiel's, pressing his lips into those of Cas until it was as if they had melded together.

The passion only increased, and Castiel slid his tongue into Dean's mouth. He had never kissed a man, and he was surprised to find it felt more natural than with any girl he had met. He glided his tongue over all of Dean's teeth, savoring every moment. Castiel had matched Dean's fervor with his own gentle touch, and Dean had never felt so desperately in love with anyone.

Barely taking breaths, Cas and Dean continued that way in the lobby of Dean's apartment building with a very confused doorman looking on, for almost ten minutes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello poppet! Thank you so much for reading, and as you know reviews are kindly appreciated. I think we all know I do not own Supernatural, but as an added disclaimer I would just like to say:**

**Disclaimer: This contains explicit material. Please do not read if you are just going say hate about it or you are not comfortable with it. I went into some detail, but hopefully not to much. Well, this is to Destiel fans. Enjoy!**

Chapter Six

Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak sat across a table from each other for the second time in two days. It was the morning after their first…and second...well, it was the morning after their many kisses of the night before.

They were sitting in Dean's airy apartment on two big-cushioned chairs. Dean was eating a pancake and Cass was eating bacon and toast, just as he would have had at his own house.

Dean had woken up earlier and made breakfast for the both of them. He still felt a little guilty about the whole ordeal with the doorman. He let Cas sleep; he knew what he would have wanted anyway. It was surprising how he knew this man, almost inside and out, and yet he had known him for barely a day and a half.

Now Cas was munching on some bacon and staring at nothing in particular, smiling dreamily. He was so adorable and he didn't even know it. Then again, Dean thought that almost everything Cas did was adorable. He couldn't help it, though. He was too far gone into the realm of infatuation to ever come back.

"How did you sleep?" asked Dean curiously.

Cas didn't know what to say. He thought about how to answer that question without sound completely and hopelessly obsessed. Last night was the best night of my life? I've never felt so physically close to someone without even having sex? Sleeping next to you made me feel warmer and happier than any space heater or happy pill ever could?

He settled on something, simple for the time being. "I slept well, Dean Winchester. I was sleeping next to you," he stated with a smile.

Oh sure, when Dean first suggested that Cas stay at his apartment they had talked a big game about them sleeping in separate beds and not being in each other's personal space at all; as if that could have been possible. Castiel did get into Dean's personal space, though, and he didn't think he ever wanted to leave.

Dean smiled a big smile that he might have considered idiotic looking before he met Cas. No one before him had made Dean smile like Cas did. No one had even bothered trying. Wearing a smile that big was now a normal thing for Dean. Cas made him feel happy; elated, even.

Looking at Cas made Dean's heart ache. He missed him, and he was in the same room as him. He glanced up at Cas just to find that he was observing him with that adorable, quizzical tilt of the head that he had so often. Dean couldn't take it anymore. He got up and went to the other room, leaving a confused Cas to eat his breakfast bacon and consider what he and Dean would do when he got back from wherever it is he went.

Dean had gone to the bathroom of his apartment, grabbing his cellphone on the way there. He entered the small room, closed the door behind him, and promptly called the number of the school to inform them that he would not be able to make it today due to incredibly burning pains in his chest. Then he exited the bathroom, put his phone on the counter, and went back into the kitchen were Castiel was still thinking about their day dreamily.

Cas looked up and smiled that content, innocent smile of his and started to tell Dean about what he had finally decided on for their day. "Hello Dean. Where did you go? I was thinking that maybe today we could just—"

Suddenly, Cas was knocked back onto a pile of relatively plushy pillows and cushions. He looked up with a degree of shock, only to find Dean above him. He was in a cat-like position, of sorts, positioned directly above Cas on all fours with a goofy grin plastered to his face.

"What are you doing, Dean?" exclaimed Cas, laughing now, but no less bewildered by this odd display.

"I missed you," Dean whispered seductively in his ear, biting it a little before he sunk down on top of him. Small tremors began to run up and down Castiel's body. They were pressed so close together, yet not close enough. Castiel decided that the best way to decrease the distance between them would be to remove some layers. He pulled Dean's shirt over his head, and receiving no objections, did the same to his own.

Pillows and blankets surrounded them, and it felt as if they were resting on a cloud. Cas pressed his warm, bare chest against Dean's and exhaled shakily. He tried to keep his composure, but his body was betraying him.

Dean was breathing heavily, feeling exactly the same as Cas. They looked into each other's eyes. Dean had never felt this kind of connection with any woman he had ever known, and he didn't think any of them compared to what he felt like now. If he felt like this now, he wondered how he would feel later. He smiled to himself and as if reading his thoughts, Cas did as well.

Trying to keep a level head, but deciding the hell with it, Dean leaned his head down, kissed Cas passionately, and bit his lower lip gently, pulling it into his own mouth. As he was doing this though, he felt gentle yet resolute hands glide their way down his chest, his stomach, and finally come to a stop dangerously close to his pelvis. Soon, his pants were off and he was eagerly helping Cas with his. He took his time; he dragged it on. Dean didn't think he could ever tire being with Cas like this, no matter how physically exhausting it became.

Cas was practically panting now, the excitement of everything, of seeing this mysterious, beautiful man, of Castiel actually being lucky enough to talk to him. By some unknown luck, Dean had offered to take him out and they had talked. Who knew that they would have so much in common, fit together so well? They became best friends in less than three hours. Then, as if Fate had planned it herself, he and this man fell in love. The sheer magnitude of how much he actually did love Dean hit him like a ton of bricks, and he thrust his body upward, even closer to Dean's, moaning loudly.

Dean absorbed all the passion and magnified it. He thrusted his hip into Castiel's, and they both practically cried out with how amazing it felt. They looked at each other, both fairly sweaty and out of breath by this point, their bodies heaving into one another like they had made to be pressed together in this way. That's when it clicked, that's when they realized how much they needed each other, that they couldn't live without each other, and they were both shocked that they had gotten this far in their lives without knowing each other.

Castiel rolled over and ended up on top of Dean. He smiled that smile that he knew Dean loved so much, except now it was anything but innocent. He pushed his lips onto Dean's with a force that let Dean know he was in control right now. Dean smiled and wrapped his arms around Castiel's bare back, pulling him down so their bodies had nothing in between them. They melted into each other and it seemed as if both their bodies became one; blending their movements perfectly with each other and crying out together as if one entity. They disappeared into that soft, feathery cloud that they had made and didn't come back out for almost two days.


	7. Chapter 7

**Oh my goodness sorry that last chapter was just a big sexy-time fluff nugget, but Supernatural is coming back today and I just felt so excited that my love of Destiel escalated to an unhealthy level. Anyway, this is chapter seven, sorry if anyone was waiting!**

**Also, sorry this one took so long! I had a big test coming up in school and I didn't have too much time. Lots of studying! Well, enjoy!**

**As per usual, I don't own Supernatural. If you do I'd pay good money for it, though.**

Chapter Seven

After waking up fully from his very enjoyable love-comma, Dean realized that he hadn't gone to work in three days. Four, if he didn't get dressed and and break every driving rule known to the road in order to get to the University in under 15 minutes. "Sonofabitch," he muttered under his breath.

He slowly squirmed out from under Castiel, who had pretty much his entire body resting on Dean's and was breathing in and out slowly with a content smile on his face. _Yeah,_ Dean thought as he started to get dressed for the first time in three days, _I'm pretty good._

Castiel woke up with a smile on his face, very warm in a flurry of blankets and pillows. He had expected Dean to be sleeping next to him, but when he realized that he was alone he wasn't too surprised. They both knew that Dean was going to have to go back to work sometime.

Getting up and walking to the kitchen, Castiel thought about what he should do that day. He munched on some bacon that was left on the table from a while ago and finally decided. He had to go pay his respects to Bobby now, or he would never want to do it.

He sat down and prepared himself mentally, then called a cab and went outside.

"Where to?" asked the cabbie, a bit distractedly. Had Castiel heard that voice before? He looked up, only to find Chuck's picture staring back at him.

"_Chuck?_"

"Oh, hey!" exclaimed Chuck, a little surprised, "It's Castiel, right? What are you doing here? Or I guess, more importantly, where do you want to go?"

"I was just…I was visiting a friend. Don't you have class today?"

"Nah, there's two groups of classes. I go tomorrow. So where to, Castiel?"

"Pine Cemetery, please," mumbled Cas morbidly. He was not looking forward to this.

"Oh…Yeah, sure."

Chuck concluded it would be best to let Castiel be alone with his thoughts. They rode the rest of the trip in a solemn silence.

Once they arrived, Cas got out of the car and paid Chuck. "Hey, I'm sorry for your loss. Here's my card. Call me if you wanna be picked up, kay?

He nodded and began to walk into the cemetery. Hearing the car pulling out of the lot, he turned around. Chuck waved at him with what he tried to make a smile, but turned out as sort of a grimace, on his face.

Castiel found Bobby's grave marker quickly, and stood next to it, his shoulders a little hunched. He felt stupid talking to a slab of stone, but he knew that he had to get "closure," or whatever it was called these days.

"Bobby, you were…you were more than a friend to me," he began, feeling very idiotic all alone in the cemetery, talking to himself. Despite that, thought, he continued, "You were a mentor, a teacher, whatever it was, you were amazing. I learned more than just art from you. You…you were family to me. More than my brothers, even."

Tears were starting to form at the bottom of his eyes. He didn't want to cry, but he had to keep going. There was so much more to say. Castiel didn't know how to sum up what Bobby had given him in such a small amount of time. Anything he said would be injustice to this man, and he felt sad for that.

"I don't know how it is that a man like you can be taken from life so quickly. Whoever is controlling things up there…Well, let's just say someone needs to get fired for this." He laughed a little at his own joke, but he was just prolonging the inevitable tears.

"Bobby, thank you. Thank you for teaching me so much more about life than I even knew was out there. You did everything for me. Everything. Even beyond the grave. Because of you, I think I've met the love of my life. Just…thank you."

And now the tears started spilling down. There was no actual noise coming from the man, but the tears rained down from his blue eyes as he stood there, silently shaking with the loss of the man he had considered his father. He stayed there for forty five minutes, talking to the headstone. He told it about what he had been doing. His art, his life, and about Dean. Even though the headstone said nothing, he felt better after that and in the car ride home he even smiled.

Dean did get to his lecture in time, astonishingly. He actually had a couple minutes to spare. He suspected the clocks at his house were a little fast, and wondered if Castiel had done that on purpose. It was a possibility. They both knew that he had to go to work sometime, right?

Silently thanking him for that, even if it actually wasn't his doing, Dean started to set out his papers for that day's lecture. The students had begun filing into the room, and he would be expected to begin any minute.

"So guys, we're learning about something pretty amazing today! Since we're in the Roman mythology section, I thought I'd teach you guys about the symbols that other teachers don't really go into. They're too…scandalous, as one might say."

Dean was wearing the biggest, goofiest smile that the students had ever seen, and they didn't really know whether to be scared or to be excited that their new teacher was being so nice.

"He definitely just got laid," whispered one of the guys to another, who nodded in agreement. No way was this guy that happy for no reason.

"But I like to think their creativity is just overlooked! So let's learn about some ancient symbols!"

"Professor Winchester? I wasn't able to get the new Roman book. I'm…sorry," called a mousy looking kid, expecting the full wrath of an angry teacher.

"Hey, no problem. We all get a little distracted sometimes, right? You can use mine. Just try to get one as soon as possible."

Everyone in the class looked at each other. Their old teacher wouldn't have let that slide. He was very particular about research and facts. Although Professor Winchester had been better, he had never been _this _much better. They knew that these were going to be a good few days, at least.


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh my goodness! I am so so so so sorry about how long it took for me to get this one out. School and whatnot, you know. And then my internet got shut off for god knows why. This one is kind of rushed and might not be the best quality, seeing as I just realized how long it had been since I wrote and tried to get whatever I could out so you guys weren't too sad. I hope it doesn't show too much!**

Castiel didn't feel quite ready to go back home yet. Well to Dean's apartment, that is. He had just sold almost all of his paintings to some woman in a suit at a gallery opening a few weeks back, and he had a lot of loose change milling about his wallet. He decided to take advantage of it and hired Chuck as his unofficial personal chauffeur for the day.

"Chuck, I'm going job-hunting," stated Cas, rather matter-of-factly.

"So you're planning to stay in Sioux Falls, then?"

"Yeah…" Cas answered thoughtfully, "I guess I am."

Later they did, in fact, find Cas a job.

They were searching all the local galleries for anyone who knew any information about anything, when Chuck was introduced to an older woman who wanted to hire an artist. When Chuck called Castiel over to see what was what, she told him that he house was too dreary, and many of her friends thought so too. When Cas asked how many friends would be willing to pay for some murals or paintings, she said over twenty five. Castiel and Chuck exchanged excited looks and quickly told the lady that he would be willing to do it.

"Oh, lovely! I will be at 648 Doehunt Road at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. Try not to be late, dear," she called back as she walked away.

Castiel high-fived Chuck, a very out of character move, and they got back in the car. He told Chuck to drive him back home, or rather, back to Dean's. He couldn't wait to tell him the good news.

When he walked through the front door he heard Dean in the kitchen, probably making himself a sandwich, knowing him. "Hey, where have you been?" he called.

"Out and about, saw an old friend."

"Did you go see Bobby?" asked Dean tentatively. He didn't really like chick-flick moments, but he knew that Robert Singer was special to Cas. Hopefully he wouldn't cry. Dean didn't think he would be able to handle that.

Castiel forgot how much they had talked and how well they had gotten to know each other within the short time they had met until now. "Yes. I went."

Cas contemplated saying more, but decided against it. He knew how Dean hated anything too emotional, which was sort of silly seeing as they had shared so many emotions already. But it made sense to Cas. Dean was probably feeling pretty insecure about his manhood right now.

"Did you go to work?" Cas asked, after a thoughtful pause.

"Yeah."

Dean would have said more, but he too was deep in thought.

I mean, sure, they had an awesome few days. It had been incredible. Mindblowing. Whatever. But did they actually think this was going to work? Was Cas actually thinking they could live together? Get married? Have a normal life? Dean didn't do normal apple-pie. He was a womanizer, a lady's man. Dean Winchester did _not_ settle down.

This was happening way too fast.

Maybe this was just his mind trying to sabotage his life again. It had a tendency to do that, along with its many other flaws. Maybe he was just feeling guilty. He had come from an amazing day at work. He hadjust left from what was probably the best three days of his life, after all. It was what he did_ after_ work that made him feel guilty.

After his lecture, one of his coworkers and a good friend of his, Jo, caught up with him.

"I know that smirk, Dean Winchester. You got laid, didn't you?"

Dean started out on the defensive, but soon relented. Jo could read him like a book, so what was the use of lying? "What? I can't believe you would…Well, yeah."

"Oh my god! Am I the last one on the entire planet you haven't slept with?" she cried at an embarrassing volume as she punched his arm playfully.

Dean just shrugged, feeling a bit uncomfortable. A teacher yelling scandalous things around a college campus was usually frowned upon, and he was getting weird looks.

Jo was not picking up on this, obviously, since she didn't drop the subject or lower her voice, "So who is the _un_lucky lady?"

"His nam—I mean, she…No one," Dean was really starting to stutter now, and he knew it was only a matter of time until Jo figured out something was up.

She was quicker than he expected, "_What?_ No! Wait, Dean. You can't be serious! You're batting for the other team now? Since when? Are your womanizing days over? Are you full-gay now? I can't believe this!"

She was throwing out questions faster than Dean could eat a hamburger, and it was overwhelming. If Dean didn't get out of this situation fast, he thought his head might explode.

"I am not gay!" he yelled, forgetting where he was. He turned bright red and practically sprinted to his car.

Seeing as how his image of manliness had been pretty much shattered, he was not feeling too cheery. He had to do something to make up for it, but if he went home all he would see is Cas. That stupid nerdy little dude made him a completely different person. All emotional and sweet and sugary. Stupid Cas. He could _not_ go home.

Thinking of Cas just made him feel incredibly guilty. If what he and Cas did wasn't gay, he didn't know what was. He didn't mean to deny his feelings for the guy, but he didn't want people to know about it. Did that mean that he had gone back on his word? He had said that he didn't care who knew, didn't he? More pangs of guilt arose. He was way too far in over his head and didn't know what to do.

He didn't know where to go, exactly. He kept driving though, anywhere. He had to get away his disintegrating self-image. Going to autopilot, he tuned out the world and cranked up the music. Zeppelin would always make him feel like a man, right?

Being on autopilot wasn't always a good idea for someone like Dean, though. His old instincts seemed to have kicked in. He guessed that they recognized the guilt and emotional suppression that they had known for so long, and decided that the old him was back. Pretty soon he found himself outside of one his favorite strip clubs.

"Nothing says manly more than paying some girl to dance on you..." he muttered to himself ashamedly. Knowing he was going to regret it later, he pulled too much money out of his back pocket and walked in.

Now, back in the apartment, he knew that he did regret it. He couldn't tell Cas about it. They were not close enough, and what if he got mad and left? But he couldn't _not _tell Cas about it. That would be even worse. Dean hated situations like these. He decided to push it to the back of his mind, to the place where all the other things he didn't want to think about went.

"Dean, are you alright?" inquired a worried voice, snapping Dean out of his thoughts and, sadly, back to real life.

"What? Oh, right. What were we talking about?"

"I was about to tell you something important."

Oh no. 'Something important' in Dean's life was never good. He didn't want to know what it was. But he had to. _Damn my own curiosity_, he thought to himself, exasperated.

"And…?"

"I got a job," he stated. Seeing Dean's confusion, he clarified, "I got a job _here_."

Here as in Sioux Falls? Well what was such a big deal about that? Dean was about to ask that very question, when it struck him like a ton of bricks. _This means that he's staying. This means that we're serious._

"Wait, Cas…"

"Some little old lady offered me a job painting something or other for her."

"Cas."

"I rent a place out if you aren't comfortable with—"

"_Cas!_" Dean shouted. He was having a very hard time keeping his anxiety in check.

Castiel looked up quickly, blue eyes confused and a bit hurt from being yelled at.

Dean felt guilty, yet again, and softened his voice, "Cas, we don't know where we're going. I don't even know what I'm doing anymore," Dean looked down, feeling guiltier all the while, " I just don't know if you staying here is such a good idea. I mean, uprooting your life? For some guy you just met? I don't know if either of us is ready for that…"

Now Castiel was the one letting his emotions get the best of him. His voice was low. Not in that rumbling, attractive way that Dean had grown quite fond of. But this tone was almost scary, like the calm before a storm.

"I am ready for it, Dean. If you are not, don't blame your inability to make a commitment on me. I have never felt this way about anyone. You are not 'some guy I just met,'" he mocked, making air quotes with his fingers. For someone who seemed so sure, he could be very childish.

"I didn't mean it like that, Cas," Dean started, trying to fix his mistake.

"I understand if you need some time to think about this. It is a big change in your life. I will be at the motel."

He walked out, not waiting for an answer. Dean just sat there, dumbstruck. How had everything gone so far south so fast?

He slammed his fist on the table. He was numbly aware of a dull, throbbing pain, but it didn't matter. Dean was far too preoccupied with thinking about how to fix this. Had he really gone and screwed up the one good thing he had going for himself?

He sat motionless in his chair, staring at the empty space where Cas had been minutes before. His posture sagged. He got some whiskey out of the back of his cupboard and poured himself a too-large glass.

He was alone, so he began to think. Everybody knows this is never a good thing, but he thought anyway. Any way he looked at his situation, he wondered the same thing:

_Why am I so goddamn self-destructive?_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Autopilot had taken over again, so it had been about two hours before Dean even realized where he was driving.

Maybe his autopilot brain was getting smarter. Going to his dad's house did seem like the most logical thing to do at a time like this. That guy gave so damn good advice. But thinking about it more, he wasn't sure how his dad would react to this particular situation.

It could go any number of ways. He could be angry, send him out of the house, even. Dean knew that he had a temper. But he was also an amazing father. Maybe he wouldn't mind. Maybe he would accept it. Maybe he wouldn't even care.

He just hoped he wouldn't pull a Dean and pretend it wasn't happening. That would be the worst, even after blind rage.

He was already halfway there; he might as well find out.

When he did pull into the quaint little neighborhood that his dad lived in, with the white-picket fences and everything, he was surprised to find no childhood memories rushing back. I mean, some things had happened that he had ever right to want to block out, but why were _none_ coming?

That was weird thing number one, and they only got worse.

Dean pulled into the driveway of his old home and got out of the car. He looked up at the white walls and charming hedges. He wondered whether his dad maintained the garden himself, but he knew the answer. His father kept the garden beautiful because that is what Dean's mother would have done, had she been alive.

Dean knocked on the door and waited, getting more and more nervous for the reaction of his father to this new, and probably shocking, news.

What he did not expect was a woman to answer the door.

"You're selling something? Whatever it is, we ain't buying."

"No, I'm not selling anything. I'm Dean Winchester," Dean clarified, wondering what this woman was doing at his house. Maybe she was an old friend. He tried to peer behind her, to see if his dad was home, but she was blocking his view.

"I don't know any Winchesters. I think you got the wrong place."

"No, this is my father's house. My house. Who are you?"

Dean was beginning to get frustrated. Was this sort of sick joke? Who was this woman and who did she think she was? You cannot just barge in and take a house for your own. People lived here. People died here. _Where the hell is dad?_

"Young man, this is not your home. You don't seem in your right mind, and I'd appreciate it if you left my property."

Dean was too shocked to argue. He got back in his car and backed out of what he had thought was his driveway. Something was wrong here. Or maybe he was just more screwed up than he thought.

Being in library was not something Dean Winchester was used to. One doesn't just go in a library when they can be getting drunk or sleeping with chicks. Preferably both.

It had a musky scent that Dean had been opposed to when he first walked in, but by now he had grown to enjoy it. The amount of books overwhelmed Dean. He doubted he had read more than fifty out of all of them.

Sitting at the computer, he began his hunt. He wasn't very good at finding information, so he made many attempts at searching the database.

Winchester: guns, guns, and more guns

John Winchester: besides one charity, nothing

Mary Winchester: except for one random Catholic school, zip

Dean Winchester: absolutely nothing

But how could that be? How could his family's names not show up in any searches? Even his own! There had been articles written about him, his high school sports, his new job. Someone had even filmed him as part of a short documentary once. It's impossible that there is no record of him at all.

He started to question his entire life. He pinched himself and didn't wake up. He pinched harder. Nothing. He slapped himself. All he got were odd glances and judging stares.

Beginning to feel very nervous, he ran to his car. He had to get back to Sioux Falls. He needed to talk to someone who knew him. He wasn't thinking of Jo or Ellen or Victor. He needed to talk to Cas. Something was more than wrong right now. If he could get Cas to listen, maybe they could figure it out.

On his way home, Dean probably broke every traffic rule that had ever been conceived. He thanked any god that was listening that no cops pulled him over.

He parked in front of the rundown, skeevy motel, and ran in.

"What room is Castiel Novak staying in?" asked Dean, trying to keep his voice calm. He failed miserably and ended up almost yelling it at the manager.

"Sir, we can't just give that information out."

Dean looked around and raised an eyebrow. Running this kind of shithole, how much moral could a guy have?

He slapped a hundred dollars down on the desk, "Room number. Castiel Novak."

The man counted the twenties and nodded. He smiled in a way that was intended as compassionate, but turned out looking sadistic.

"463," he pronounced, saying it slowly, relishing the anxious look on Dean's face. "Have a good day," he tried to say, but Dean was already in the stairwell sprinting to floor four.

He arrived at said room number and pounded on it like a madman. He prayed that Cas would answer and not be too mad at him.

The door opened and a very perplexed set of blue eyes looked up at him through a head of frazzled hair. Although he was preoccupied with other things at the moment, Dean couldn't help but notice how cute Cas looked in his worn ACDC t-shirt and sagging pajama pants.

"Dean? What on earth are you doing here so late?"

Not even bothering to answer, Dean walked right into the hotel room. He paced around nervously for a couple seconds, and then decided that the bed looked like the best place to sit. Only after sitting down and staring at a more than bamboozled Cas for a good thirty seconds did Dean begin to talk nervously.

"Something weird is happening, Cas."

"I'll say! What the hell are you doing here at three in the morning?"

"My life isn't happening! I'm not even real! Maybe you aren't real. Something is wrong with me. I'm going crazy. I have no family, everything is made up. It's like some nightmare that I can't wake up from. Cas, I need your help."

Castiel could see that Dean wasn't yanking his chain. He was legitimately scared for his life. Although he had no idea why Dean was freaking out, exactly, Cas tried to comfort him.

"Dean, it's alright. Why don't you explain what you're talking about?"

And Dean did. Everything. Maybe even too much. He told Cas about all that happened from after work that day to right at that moment. He expected him to be mad. Disappointed or sad, maybe. He did not think that Castiel would nod and say, "Okay."

Castiel could see that Dean's current problem trumped any anger he reserved for the man. He let it slip away, and became kind and caring. He told Dean he would see what the deal was with his own family. Maybe something was happening to the both of them.

He couldn't get a hold of his father, but that was nothing new. His brother wasn't answering either, though, which did not usually happen. He rarely ever ignored calls, for he was a surgeon and who knew what strange thing could be happening that needed his immediate attention. He never even bothered to look at the caller ID.

This worried Cas, so he began to search the web. Dean was fast asleep. Cas had demanded he go to bed once he heard that Dean had been up almost thirty six hours straight, but now he wished that he was awake. Castiel wasn't finding any information on his family or himself, and he was beginning to plunge into a deep state of concern

He tried to resist the urge to wake Dean up, but proved unable to and proceeded to shake him to consciousness.

"Dean! There's no record of my family anywhere!"

"What? It's happening to both of us?"

They shared a fretful look, which was broken when Castiel had a thought. It was a weird thought, he knew. But everything about this was weird. He looked at the ground and thought about how he could say this without sounding like a complete psychopath.

He realized that there was really no way to do such a thing, so he dove right in, "Dean, what if this isn't our life?

"What? I don't think your spidey-senses are tingling correctly, man."

"Obviously something is wrong. Everything is slightly off. What if this isn't our lives. I don't know how, but I this can't be them."

It didn't make any sense. No sense at all. And yet, a little part of Dean believed it. That little part grew rapidly until it became a full-fledged faith.

"No…It can't be our lives…"

Neither of them noticed the man with the amused smile on his face standing in the corner of the room until he spoke.

"I'm so glad you crazy kids figured it out. It took you long enough, really. Ready to go home?"

And with that the strange man walked towards them both arms outstretched, two fingers on each hand held up towards their foreheads.


	10. Chapter 10

**Oh look, we made it to the double digits! How exciting! Well, thank you guys so much for reading this, it really makes my day when I get a favorite and even more when I get a review! Hope you enjoy! **

**Sorry it took so long, it was my birthday and I had a big speech and a test at school.**

**There will be one more chapter after this, maybe two.**

Chapter Ten

Dean had a very uncomfortable feeling in his stomach and was squeezing his eyes shut. He didn't really remember what had happened to produce this feeling. A bad hamburger, maybe? It was only when he opened his eyes that he remembered what had happened.

He looked around only to find that he was not in a motel room anymore. In fact he wasn't even in a civilized building (if you called that motel civilized). Turning to his left, he saw Castiel. He was motionless, eyes shut tight. They fluttered open and took in their surroundings. He seemed just as shocked as Dean was.

Sharing a look at concern, they both realized that someone else had been with them just moments before. When they turned their heads, they found that the man was still there, chuckling a little to himself.

"Well, aren't you going to yell at me?" he asked, still laughing.

Both Dean and Cas were silent. They were shocked and confused and didn't quite remember how to speak.

"Wh- wha…what are you talking about? How did we get here? We were in the motel…" spluttered Dean.

The man tilted his head a bit, reminding Dean of Cas. He remembered the first time Cas tilted his head at Dean. That was actually the first time they met. They were in that old abandoned warehouse with Bobby and—Wait…Bobby? Abandoned warehouse? No…They were in the lecture hall after Dean's lesson. Right?

Dean's head was pounding like a bitch. He assumed this was because the man had knocked him out or drugged or something. He hated crazy people.

"You guys are sure taking a long time to get it." he said thoughtfully. He looked to Castiel, "I thought you were smarter than that, little bro!"

"Little bro…?" Castiel said. Last he remembered this man was not his brother. His brothers weren't on speaking terms with him or each other anyway. What sick game was Gabriel playing?

_Who on Earth is Gabriel?_ Cas thought to himself, wondering how that name had popped into his head.

He had a dull aching in his skull, but otherwise he felt physically fine. And then, in an instant, it all hit him.

At the same time, Dean was looking over to have one of his "looks" with Cas. Hopefully he knew what the hell was going on. When he did look over, though, Cas was not in his line of sight. Suddenly worried, his head whipped all around very quickly. He heard his voice and followed the sound with his eyes, only to find Castiel on the ground holding his head.

"NO! It was better there!" he screamed, then looked up at the mysterious ma with rage in his eyes so deep that Dean was surprised the man didn't burn up right then and there.

"Why did you bring us back? Why didn't you let us stay?" he continued, still yelling, a thunderous, booming sound.

"Would someone tell me what the hell are you're talking about?" Dean ordered, interrupting a chorus of Cas-shouting that seemed to be going on endlessly. He was getting quite fed up with this whole Don't-Tell-Dean-Anything trend.

Taking his head out of his hands and looking up at Dean, Castiel's face went from a look of raw fury to deep concern to what seemed like pity all in less than five seconds.

"You'll see soon," he muttered. Hey, at least he was calming down.

Dean was about to ask what Cas had meant by that when his head was hit by a splitting headache like a tree by a lightning bolt.

"_SonofaBITCH!_" he cried, dropping to his knees and cradling his head in his hands.

"Gabriel, can't you do anything?" asked Castiel, like a musing than frantic with worry.

"I could…" he paused, "Or _you_ could."

Castiel glared at Gabriel and stood up, walking over to Dean. Whispering sorry so quietly that no one would be able to hear, he put his first two fingers on Dean's forehead.

And then the pain was gone. It was like a miracle. In that moment, Dean had been convinced that he was going to die. He was so relieved that he laughed, actually laughed after a thing like that had just happened. Sometimes Dean surprised even himself.

But then he remembered what had happened just before his freaky little episode.

"Cas, what the hell?" he demanded.

Sighing, Cas began to explain. This wouldn't be easy, but Dean would understand soon enough.

"Another reality? Angels? Come on, Cas. _Really?_" Dean said skeptically. Cas could tell he was not going to believe this without hard proof.

"Cas. He's not going to believe you now, and he's going to remember in probably two minutes anyway. Why not just let him sit there for a while?" Gabriel attempted to whisper. He didn't really understand the part about being quiet.

"Because, _big bro_," he sneered mockingly, voice dripping with what was, to Gabriel, an unusual amount of sarcasm. For Cas, at least, "I want him to trust me again once he remembers. If I can show him this is your fault and I had nothing to do with it, maybe he will."

"Frickin optimists," Gabriel muttered, traipsing away.

Castiel turned back to Dean, "Dean, at the motel you were saying that it wasn't our lives. You were right. This is. You are a hunter, Dean."

Dean scoffed. He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world, but Dean was not buying what Cas was selling, "Right, and you're a vampire that glitters in the sunlight."

"What? No, Dean. I'm an angel," he deadpanned.

Silently wondering what the hell had happened to Cas's sense of humor, Dean stood up. His headache was gone, at least. Now he had to figure out what was going on around here. And where here _was_, exactly.

He opened his mouth to demand some answers, when that goddamn headache came back with the force of a mallet hitting his head. He almost cried out, but held back the noise. He didn't want to seem weak in front of Castiel. Or, he supposed, that other guy.

Seeing Dean cringe, Gabriel yelled across the room, "It's happening, Cas. You can't stop it."

His retort was simple and calm, but anyone could sense the resentment burning through it. "You shouldn't have done this, Gabriel. You'll regret this."

Gabriel just stared back at him, expressionless. Dean would have asked what Gabriel had done to deserve Castiel's fury, but he was a little busy pushing his hands against his head, trying to push away the pain.

It was throbbing through his head. He felt something in there, like a reservoir rising and pushing against the dam with all its might. Dean could feel the dam cracking, first a hairline. It grew into a splintering spider web, and finally it burst. Something was rushing at him, right to the very core of his brain. But what was it?

He didn't have to wait long for the answer. Though in retrospect, he wished that he had never asked it at all. Maybe he could have continued that happy little delusion for a bit longer.


	11. Chapter 11

_Well, it hasn't been TOO too long, but I'm sorry for not updating sooner. This one is a little rushed on account of my guilt for starting another story without finishing this one. Always awkward when that happens! _

_Well anyway, thank you to all the wonderful people who reviewed! It really makes my day, and I'll be sure to read some of your work as well!_

_Enjoy!_

Dean woke up feeling groggy and more hungover than he had in years. For him, that's saying something because he is quite used to drinking a lot. Well, he is now, at least. Or should he say again? He cursed Gabriel for making his life so goddamn confusing.

He opened one eye suspiciously, a hunter's instinct taking over. Sleeping was one of the most vulnerable times for someone like him, seeing as anything could get you whenever they wanted. You were just a sitting duck waiting to be shot.

His one eye swept the room quickly: empty. But then he heard that sound. That oh-so familiar sound of wings flapping and trenchcoats rustling. He opened both eyes and looked toward the sound. As expected, Castiel was standing in the doorway. He was looking down and sporting an almost guilty posture. This was unusual, seeing as angels don't feel guilt. Or any emotions, for that matter.

Dean had thought Castiel was different, but he had been wrong.

"I see you have awoken," he stated in a low voice.

"I think it's time we have a talk, Cas. Oh, and get Gabriel in here as well. We have _so_ much to catch up on."

Dean could tell the sting he had laced through his command hurt Castiel when he cringed a little. He started to feel a pang of guilt, but pushed it to the back of his mind. Guilt was not something that Dean should be feeling, seeing as he was the one Cas had toyed around with and betrayed.

Nodding solemnly, Castiel disappeared as quickly as he had come.

Dean was left alone to ponder his thoughts. From past experience he learned that this was not _ever_, in the entire history of his life, a good thing. He disregarded that thought, though. Dean was a very stubborn man, after all.

He wondered whether Cas knew about what Gabriel had done. Maybe it was all just one big scheme? No, Cas wasn't perfect, but he wasn't evil either. He was just…obedient. And Dean couldn't blame him for that, could he? Who was he to judge, seeing as he was the exact same ay with his own father.

But a little voice was nagging at the back of his head, telling him it was not the same. Castiel hadn't even met his father; Dean had known his for years. Although that didn't mean much in terms of John Winchester, he had to admit. That man had more secrets than a middle school girl.

Maybe he should cut Cas a break. It wasn't as if Cas was forcing Dean to fall for him over and over. It wasn't as if Cas had planned it so Dean wouldn't be able to keep his eyes off of him. It wasn't as if Cas had known that when they first met, sparks would fly. Literally and metaphorically.

God, he was such a girl. He hated it. He grinded his teeth together and grimaced. _Stupid Dean, _he thought, _Why do you always end up doing the most idiotic things?_

Dean had met an angel, a frickin angel of the lord, and he had something different than he had for any girl he'd every slept with. An angel: a different species. It wasn't even his body; he was inside of some person who had a family. And on top of all that, as if it wasn't bad enough, he was inside a _man_! If he'd ever heard of something more taboo, he couldn't remember it now.

So he bottled it up, he pushed it away. He did what Dean Winchester always did, and he didn't think about it. But then it was Castiel's "last day," and Dean just _couldn't_ let him die a virgin. So he took an angel to a strip club, of all places.

He should have known that a nerdy angel who chose to wear a trenchcoat and never got jokes wouldn't like girls. He should have known that an angel who chose to be on Earth with two human men over being up in Heaven with other heavenly beings would be gay.

"_Cool it, Cas. They're just girls. Don't' be scared. Here, let's find you a good one," Dean mused, as if they were just shopping for groceries, "Wait…You aren't gay, are you?"_

_Castiel paused, wondering how to answer the question in words Dean would be able to understand. Humans were frustrating in that way. It was much easier to get his point across when talking to angels. _

"_Gay not a divine term, Dean. I, and the rest of Heaven, am utterly indifferent to sexual orientation. I just would prefer not to engage in activities with some…common whore."_

"_Wow, Cas. Tell me what you really think."_

"_I just did, Dean. Could we leave now? This is a den of iniquity. I should not be here."_

"_You can't die a virgin, Cas. You just can't. It would be a sin."_

"_I don't think—"_

"_Oh, look. Showtime!" Dean said with a smirk. He might as well bury himself with boose and girls if he's going to help his best friend, and possible romantic interest, get laid, right? _

Thinking back, he cursed himself for being that stupid. Did he actually think that would have worked forever? He had to have known that he would have slipped eventually. Maybe gotten drunk and ending up spilling the whole thing to Sam, who would have just sat there through it, possibly horrified.

But he should have just done it then and there. He should have called Sam, they should have gotten back their old team months sooner. He should have told Sam everything, to the last detail.

If he had, he would've learned how supportive Sammy actually was, despite everything he himself was going through. How well Sam understood. How Sam helped boost his confidence and reassure Dean that he was, in fact, a man. Sam had known about Dean's feelings, and he didn't care. And that was ultimately what convinced him to tell Cas at all.

Dean had hunted countless things, things people couldn't imagine in their worst nightmares. He had died, he had gone to hell, suffered through the damn Apocalypse. But nothing was scarier to him than confronting feelings.

Especially feelings about Cas.

As he began to recall that night, which seemed so far away to him now, Castiel appeared. This time he had Gabriel in tow.

"Finally," Dean drew out in an annoyed voice, "I thought you dicks were supposed to be fast."

Glancing between the two angels, he was surprised to find emotion on both of their faces.

Castiel: sad, hurt, hopeful for forgiveness, shy, caring, passionate—all in one glance.

Gabriel: surprised, nervous, guilty. _Guilty?_

Dean closed his mouth, which was poised and ready for a good ol' fashioned Dean-rant. He made the slightest turn of his head toward Gabriel and narrowed his eyes. This angel was going to feel the pain that Dean felt when he realized what had happened. This angel was going to realize that lives were not something you could just toy around with, angel or not.

When Dean was done, Gabriel will wish that he had never even met him. He interfered with the wrong relationship. One full of bitter feelings, two vengeful people, and one very broken love.

Castiel saw Dean's expression. He read Dean like a book. He knew Dean very well, almost as well as Sam did. He could almost hear Dean's thoughts. It wasn't mind-reading. Although he possessed that ability, he had never used it on Dean. It was just an intuition one gets when they feel for someone so deeply. And with Castiel's heightened sense of—well, everything—the inner workings of Dean's mind were as clear as day.

He was going to threaten Gabriel, torture him, even. He was going to make him feel the pain of Dean's loss. He knew this because he had felt the same way. But he had resisted, and if Dean didn't he would never be the same. The person coming from the other side of that experience would not be the same Dean that Castiel had rebelled for, had fallen in love with.

He knew that he had to stop it, but he didn't know how. _Why are humans so very complicated? _he wondered in frustration.

_Hello there good readers! If you are confused about why they are so angry, do not fret. All will be explained in the next chapter, which may be the last one. So sad! But if I get a real spurt of inspiration perhaps I'll do an epilogue, yes? Thank you!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Okay, don't be mad. I admit this one isn't that well written because I was pretty distracted by crying over the end of Season Five—again. So I apologize in advance, but hopefully you guys will love it anyway. _

_Oh, and the things in italics (besides this, of course) are flashbacks, from Dean's POV. This may be confusing, since Cas is the one actually telling the story. To explain, I wanted the flashbacks to be in Dean's POV so we could see both sides to the story._

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Dean jumped up from where he was sitting on the bad and practically lunged for Gabriel. To his surprise, Cas got in his way.

"Dean, no!" he yelled, putting his hand on Dean's shoulder.

Before he could shake off the touch of that stupid angel, that stupid _heartbreaking_ angel, they had been zapped. To who knows where, really.

"What the hell, Cas?" Dean demanded, almost yelling.

"We had to go somewhere I could explain. With_out_ you going all," he made his trademarked air quotations, "'darkside' on me."

Dean wanted so badly to yell, to throw something, to throw a tantrum. The only problem was, when he looked into those eyes he couldn't. His anger melted away. And he tried to avoid those piercing blue eyes. He tried to look anywhere else. He couldn't. And when he did gaze up at them, he could tell Cas was sorry, was guilty. Dean couldn't forgive him, though. But the least he could do was hear Cas out.

"Let me tell you my story, Dean. Let me tell you everything."

They were sitting on the ground, and Dean felt like two girls at a middle school sleepover. He kept looking around to make sure that no one would see him like this, but then he would realize that they were in some field, and probably not even in the same country as before, knowing Cas.

"Dean, you must know that I never expected you to reveal your emotions. I had read you very well up until then, and your personality had shown no signs that the particular event would come to pass."

Dean interrupted at that point, even though he had told Castiel just moments before that he wouldn't, "Wait a sec—you knew how I felt about you?"

"Of course, Dean. I'm an angel. We…" Castiel paused, trying to figure out a way to put it into human words, "…sense things."

"Oh great, just what I needed. Another ESP kid," he responded, just barely loud enough for Castiel to hear, even with his "sensing" ears.

"I don't understand that reference, Dean," said Castiel in exasperation, "As I was saying, when you told me, it came as quite a shock. If I had expected it, I would have reacted in a more…poised manner. Unfortunately, I had not seen it coming."

* * *

"_Cas, get your feathery ass down here. It's big. End of the world big. Life or death big. Et cetera, et cetera. Oh, and hurry the hell up!"_

_Dean was very drunk at the time, but that didn't change things. He still needed to tell Cas, he still needed to get it off his back. And if it took lying to get him down here, who cared. Castiel would understand soon enough, anyway. He wouldn't want anything to do with them soon. He would be so scared by Dean that he would go back to Heaven and never come back. They would never see him again. And did Dean care about that? Of course he—_

_Wait. Yes he did. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He should have listened to Sammy. He shouldn't have gotten drunk. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. _

_Just as he was about to tell Castiel, wherever the hell he was, that on he probably shouldn't come, he heard the signature sound of wings flapping. He felt the air make that little whoosh that Dean had grown to love. He knew, without even seeing, that if he turned around Castiel would be standing there, trenchcoat and all._

"_Dean, what is it?"_

_Was that worry in his voice? Angels didn't worry. Had Dean not been as drunk as he was, he probably would have over-analyzed that statement like a little girl with her first crush. _

"_Oh, you're here," Dean slurred out. _

"_Of course I am here. I always come when you call. Now what is it? Are you hurt? Where is Sam?"_

"_He's not here. And…you should leave too! Yeah! Just get out!"_

"_I don't understand. You called," Castiel said, in genuine confusion. Dean didn't blame him. Anyone, angel or not, would be confused by this. He sure was._

"_Fine, don't. I don't care," he retorted, his voice revealing the extent of his alcohol intake. Even if Castiel was an ignorant angel, he could register when Dean was drunk. He decided that sitting down would be the best way to seem unthreatening at a time such as this._

"_It seems you are drunk, Dean," he stated simply._

"_Yeah, and?" _

_Castiel didn't know what to say, so he was silent. He looked at Dean and Dean looked back. It felt as though he was being studied, but he didn't mind. He was used to Castiel's strange behavior by now. To anyone else, that silence might have seemed uncomfortable, but even drunk Dean was content to just sit there with Cas and say nothing. _

_Finally he regained the power of speech, and formulated what he wanted to say in his mind. Being Dean, this wasn't going to be easy, but better now than never. Which, as Sam pointed out, would ultimately lead to drowning his sorrows in alcohol and probably getting STDs from the whores that he would feel the sick need to sleep with. He could always count on Sammy to have his back._

"_Cas, I guess I did bring you here for a reason, sorta I guess."_

_Had he just said 'I guess' twice in one sentence? He really should not have gotten drunk. Cursing himself for his ill decisions, he tried to regain his composure and continue, despite Castiel's quizzical gaze._

"_I just wanted to tell you…Well you might already know, so... Well I just wanted to tell you…I mean…"_

_This was not going at all how he wanted it to. He was supposed to just say it, and then Castiel would react. Dean didn't even care how Cas reacted anymore, as long as he got out what he was trying to say without sounding like a complete jackass._

"_Dean, it's okay."_

_Dean returned a weak smile to that. Castiel didn't even know what the hell was going on, and yet he still tried to comfort him. He was so kind, and yet so dangerously insensitive. He was one big contradiction, but Dean didn't care. Cas was amazing. Cas was _his_ angel. Why couldn't he just put that into words and explain it to Castiel?_

"_Cas, you're my angel."_

'_Oh shit, did I say that out loud? I did, didn't I? Oh shit. Goddammit. This isn't good. So far from good. Bad. Bad bad bad bad,' thought Dean. He tended to repeat himself a lot when he was drunk. He at least prided himself on not doing things he would regret the next morning, though. Well, he could take that off the list of things he was proud of now._

"_I'm…what?"_

_Dean didn't even know how to begin explaining himself. He tried hard to come up with a good explanation. He really did think about it. And that resulted in him staying silent for a very long time, and this time the silence was chock full of tension._

"_Dean, what do you mean 'You're my angel'?"_

_He didn't know what to say, so he might as well say the truth._

"_I…love you…" replied Dean very quietly, almost as if it were a question._

_Dead silence. _

_Dean had wanted to get it out there, no matter what the reaction. Now he wasn't so sure he made the right choice. Anything would be better than no reaction. If something didn't happen soon he was going to—_

_Something was on him, something big. Hunter instinct took over, as it usually did for him. His eyes were closed, but his hand swung around and collided with a body. A very hard body. There was a pain in his fist that he recognized from punching Castiel one time before. _

_Wondering what had happened that caused Castiel to be thrown on top of him, he opened his eyes. He had been expecting demons, maybe some enemy angels that had found them. But he opened his eyes just in time to see Cas lean down and kiss him._

_It was not how he had expected a kiss from Castiel, an angel of the lord. It embodied nothing about a soldier, showed none of his hardened, malevolent, insensitive nature. In fact, it was the opposite._

_Castiel pushed his lips against Dean's and they were gentle, caring. They were shy, yet passionate. Dean vaguely wondered where he had learned to kiss like that, but he didn't care. The fact of the matter was, Castiel had kissed him. Castiel had learned Dean's real feelings and he hadn't run away, he had kissed him. _

_He was elated, floating on the world, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. To tell the truth, he didn't even feel a hint of alcohol in his body. He just felt joy. But he broke away from Cas, and he looked at him. He looked at him deep in those blue eyes that would always make him melt, that he could never be mad at. He said nothing, but tilted his head._

_Castiel understood, though. In response, he nodded. In that single gesture, he answered Dean's unspoken question. He had said, "Yes, it's always been this way. Yes, I'm sure I love you too."_

* * *

Dean snapped out of his reverie to find that Cas was talking. Who knows how long he had been talking for, actually. Dean was in his own little world, his memory world. Lately, he had been going there quite a bit. Well, before the whole Gabriel ordeal, that is.

"I was not at all unhappy that it had happened though," Castiel explained, "In fact, I was joyful. Which is an emotion that not many angels get the privilege of experiencing, sadly. I was so surprised that you had chosen to tell me."

Dean interrupted again, this time not even feeling the least bit guilty, "Well if you felt the same way, why the hell did _you_ never tell _me_?"

"For your own good, Dean. You and Sam, your love is so beautiful. And it seemed there was little room in your heart for anyone but your brother."

At that Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Castiel continued talking quickly, as if to clarify.

"I didn't mind, though. If there was anything I had learned in my time on earth, it was loss. I would have never told you, because it would have only burdened you."

"And although it felt in that moment with you as though everything in my life became complete, perfect even, it seemed as if we were doomed from the start."

"We weren't doomed, Cas. You made a choice."

Dean knew that it was a low blow, but he didn't even care anymore. He had been played one too many times by the angels, and he didn't think he could trust any of them now.

Castiel cringed at the statement, but he recovered quickly. Once he was done explaining, Dean would understand. Once he was done explaining, Dean would forgive him.

He just needed Dean to listen to the whole story.

* * *

_Sorry, I said that would explain everything and I know it didn't really. Don't worry, I promise by this time tomorrow (if not sooner)!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Okeedokee, I'm back! Thank you so much to the people who reviewed, it really means a lot! I love you guys!_

_So, I'm hoping this chapter clears things up for those of you who have no idea what the heck is going on. The flashbacks are now more Cas oriented, sorry. I just love playing with his learning of emotions. It's a crisis. Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

"When we told Sam, well you know. Sam is Sam, it didn't change anything. But it didn't matter. Our lives were so…are so…" Castiel searched for the right word to describe his life since he met Dean.

"Fucked up," Dean finished.

Castiel was taken aback at this harsh phrasing.

"Well, I wasn't going to say…"

"Face it, Cas. Since you 'raised me from perdition,'" Dean said in a low, mocking voice that cut Cas deeply, "everything has gone to shit. I used to be awesome, man. Now I'm just some...gay angel-banger."

"A _what_?" Cas practically yelped. He had no idea what that meant, but he knew from Dean's tone of voice that it couldn't be good.

"A gay—nevermind. The point is, you pretty much ruined everything I was proud of about myself. I mean, thanks for bringing me out of Hell and all, but did you have to go and be so goddamn attractive?"

Despite the seriousness of Dean's tone, Castiel couldn't help but smile. It was so odd to hear Dean express such emotions. He supposed it was just one of the many developments in their lives since that first time they kissed.

But Castiel didn't mean to hurt Dean. He would never mean to hurt him. He was Castiel's soulmate. And sure, the other angels objected, said it was disgusting, even. Your soulmate wasn't supposed to be a human, a dirty hairless ape. His was, though. And there was nothing he could do about it. Suddenly, his guilt hit him like a tsunami.

"It wasn't all bad, was it?" he asked quietly.

Dean was silent. There were so many ways he could answer that question. He could get mad, he could scream. He could tell Cas that they had nothing together anymore, that he didn't feel anything anymore. But it wasn't true. It _wasn't_ all bad. It was far from all bad.

When he thought about Cas, he thought about all the looks they had before they had told each other. All of those stolen glances that both of them had taken, he lingering touches that were passed off as worry for the other. And when then they told each other, and everything was even better. They shared kisses, even when they knew people were watching. They sat in the park and Castiel would tell Dean about his long life. Sam started driving Baby so Dean could sit in the back with Cas.

They had really loved each other, and it was so amazing. They both felt it was so incredibly right that nothing could ever go wrong.

But they hadn't anticipated just how "disgusting" the other angels actually thought it was.

* * *

_Dean and Cas were sitting at the park and Castiel was explaining his job in both Heaven and on Earth. He explained how he had been stationed there to watch over the humans, and how boring it could really get. They were so predictable, so repetitious. But he had been fascinated by them, and being on Earth was something he loved._

"_The other angels never understood. To them, humans were just a life form that we kept around because our Father told us we should. But to me it was different. Sometimes, I even wanted to be able to experience the emotions that came so easily to you. When Anna fell, I knew that I would never be able to, though."_

_Dean grabbed Castiel's hand, which was hugging his chest, and looked up into the bright blue eyes. A tilt of the head, Dean's way of asking questions without ruining Castiel's storytelling mood. _

"_By doing that, she had become the lowest form of life that one could possibly be. She had possessed a Grace, and she gave it up willingly. She was hunted for that. I knew the consequences, but when I met you, all the practicalities flew out the window."_

_He squeezed Dean's hand in response to the worried green eyes. He knew that if he didn't clarify what he meant, Dean would blame himself for every problem Castiel now had with his family. If Cas had learned anything in his time with him, it was that Dean always tried to blame other people's faults on himself. _

"_It was a loss of control, but a good one. All I wanted was to be able to feel the way you felt, experience the emotions that you and Sam did. I thought that I would have to become human for that, but I was wrong. You taught me I could still feel."_

_Castiel decided then and there it was time to tell Dean the truth about their relationship, about soulmates. _

"_Dean, you are my sou—"_

_Suddenly, Castiel as cut off midsentence with his fingers in Dean's hair by the sound of wings flapping. It had been weeks since they first "came out" to each other, and they had no qualms about public displays of affection anymore. But when they saw who it was that had interrupted them, they separated in record time._

"_Castiel. You should not be with the Winchester. We warned you."_

_Dean was gaping at this sudden turn of events, and was more than confused why the angels cared about him and Cas being together. And if they had warned him about something like this, why hadn't Cas told him? If Cas was at all surprised by their appearance, his face didn't show it. _

"_And I told you I didn't care, Hester," Cas responded. Dean could sense Castiel's anger rolling off his words. It was his calm and threatening voice that made everyone want to run and hide. Everyone except this chick, apparently. _

_Hester, apparently the name of the angel dressed in a black pantsuit, was speaking in a severely monotone voice, "Cease this at once, so we don't have to call Uriel. He will not be pleased."_

"_Let him come, it won't change anything."_

_Hester paused, and it seemed as though she was actually sad about what she was going to do next._

"_Uriel, he's here," she called, not even bothering to take her eyes off of Castiel, suspicious that he would leave, perhaps._

_Another sound of flapping wings came from a little ways behind Dean. Everyone turned to see Uriel, looking angrier than ever. _

"_I told you how it was supposed to be, Castiel. You should have listened, for you will not like the punishment."_

_Dean was suddenly very worried. What did they mean, 'punishment'. Were they taking Castiel somewhere? Why? And if so, why wasn't Castiel fighting back? Should he be killing someone right now? Dean had no idea how to react to this situation, seeing as he had no idea what was actually happening. _

_And then Cas was right there, his forehead pressed against Dean, Castiel's hands grabbing tight onto his arms. Dean could tell by that display of fear, something Castiel would never usually show, that something was very wrong. _

"_Dean, look at me, this is important. Remember this, okay?" Dean nodded, and Castiel continued in a frantic voice, "I love you, Dean. I always will love you."_

_Blue eye looked at green, and Castiel did a quick nod, as if to say everything was going to be alright. But when Uriel put a rough hand on Castiel's shoulder and ripped him away from Dean, he could tell it was far from that._

_Dean had heard this kind of talk before. Dean had heard this tone of voice too many times to count. It was the voice of someone saying goodbye. Both his dad and his brother had used it, and both times his heart splintered. If Castiel did it too, he didn't think that he would be able to recover. _

"_No. No! You can't do this! Cas!"_

_But Cas, and the rest of the angels, were gone. _

"_CAS!" he screamed, not caring about the looks he was drawing to himself. _

_Then his heart finally gave out with the weight of his loss, and he collapsed._

* * *

"You left me, Cas. You left me, and you shattered everything about me. So tell me, Mr. ESP angel, was I not already bad enough at trusting people without your goddamn betrayal to add to the list?"

Castiel had been keeping a good hold on his temper until then. It wasn't Dean's fault hie didn't know the whole story, after all. But this comment made him snap. After all they had been through, how could Dean actually think Cas had betrayed him?

"I didn't betray you, Dean!" he yelled.

Dean looked as shocked by the outburst as Cas felt. Shaking his head, he tried to recompose himself.

"So you didn't disappear for over six months without any trace? So you didn't leave me after telling me you never would? Because as far as I remember, you did. And that's betrayal, Cas. It doesn't matter what fucking species you are, it just is!"

"You don't understand. I just need to explain," Cas said quietly.

"Fine, Cas. Enlighten me," Dean conceded, but Cas could still feel the anger and fury seeping out of him.

"When I said that the angels 'did not approve' of us, I was understating things a bit…"

"Oh, big surprise. You lied."

"I only bent the tru—it doesn't matter. The fact is, they were what caused it all to go wrong."

* * *

_Castiel had been called in to talk to Uriel, his current superior. He had no idea what the reason could be, and he was more than a little nervous. He had recently raised Dean Winchester from Hell—his first big task. He prayed to God that nothing went wrong as he walked into the room. _

"_Sir?" Cas called hesitantly, his voice being absorbed by the room. It had the smell of cigars, though Castiel knew that Uriel did not smoke. Angels didn't smoke, for it had no effect on them anyway. The chairs were a deep mahogany with leather-clad cushions. Uriel looked up from some papers on his polished wood desk and motioned for Castiel to sit down._

"_Do you know why you are here, Castiel?" he asked, as Castiel took a seat obediently. _

"_I do not."_

"_In that case, it is about the Winchesters."_

"_What is it? Did something go wrong? Were there complications? I did exactly what was instructed of me, Sir."_

_Uriel could tell that the angel had no idea what he was getting at. He pitied the poor boy. Not in the way one would feel sad for a little brother, though Castiel was his kin, but rather the way someone pities a bug before they crush it with their foot._

"_The angels are afraid that you are…becoming too involved with the Winchesters."_

_Castiel stiffened. Did they know the extent of his involvement? Did they know yet that the brothers had taught him to doubt? Did they know his emotions for Dean? They couldn't know, he reassured himself. He had taken precautions not to let it show._

"_I don't understand what you mean, Sir," he retorted, his face showing no emotion._

"_Castiel, do not lie to me. It is of no use. We are aware of your," he paused, as if in disgust, "feelings for the elder brother. We are warning you now, and you will only be warned once, it must stop. If you do not stop it, we will."_

_Uriel stared at Castiel intently, waiting for an answer. Castiel only nodded in response, and walked out of the room silently. He didn't come the next time the Winchesters called._

* * *

"It wasn't because I was scared of their punishments that I didn't come, although an angel's torture is by all means terrifying. It was because I didn't want you to get hurt. I was protecting you, Dean. You have to understand, everything I did, I did it for you."

As Dean looked into the sincere blue eyes, he wanted so badly to believe him. But he couldn't. He had been betrayed at a much deeper level than just Castiel leaving. It was what happened six months later, when Castiel came back, that hurt the most.

"Really, Cas? Because I'd say that trying to stab me isn't really too good for my wellbeing."

Castiel gulped. This one was going to be harder to explain.


	14. Chapter 14

_Hola Mishamigos. Sorry for the cliffhanger there! I should probably stop doing that, but for some reason it's quite fun for me. Well, in any case, enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

"You got anything to say, or are you just gonna sit with your thumbs up your ass?" Dean asked Cas, who had been silent for over a minute now.

"I do not have any of my fingers—" Castiel started to correct Dean, as if it was a reflex. When he saw the wrathful look on Dean's face he stopped short, though. If he didn't get to the point quick, Dean might get too angry to be reconciled.

"You remember your time in Hell, correct? The endless ways that Alastair found to torture, and even manipulate you?"

Dean narrowed his eyes and glowered at Cas. If looks could kill then Cas, along with anything living in a ten-mile radius, would be stone dead. Cringing a little at Dean's hostility, Castiel took that as a yes and a signal to continue before Dean lost his temper.

"Well, Alastair is just a demon," Dean scoffed at that. In his mind Alastiar was much more than 'just a demon.' Had Lucifer's existence not already been confirmed, Dean might have been convinced that Alastair was the Devil himself.

"And Uriel is an angel. A very wrathful and, regrettably, creative angel. So when they took me that day, it was not just for a rap on the knuckles."

* * *

_Castiel felt a hand on his shoulder and sensed an angry Grace behind him. Suddenly he was somewhere else, though he couldn't say that this turn of events surprised him. _

"_I thought I warned you, Castiel," boomed a low but furious voice._

_Castiel knew that excuses were useless and that he just had to face what was coming to him. A dark thought formed in his head. One full of remorse. He wished that he had continued to stay away from Dean. He had tried so hard in the beginning, but even after a week he could barely keep himself from answering the Winchester's calls._

_Now Dean could be forced to pay the price of Castiel's selfishness._

_His head was bowed down and he spun around, ripping Uriel's hand off his shoulder in the process. As it turned out, this action looked much more threatening than he had intended and pretty soon hands were around his throat in a vice-like grip._

"_You know what's going to happen, don't you Castiel?" Uriel asked, in an almost mocking tone. Castiel had the strong urge to spit into this terrible angels face, but resisted. He couldn't risk making Uriel any angrier than he already was. He had to think about Dean now, and making Uriel mad would only increase his chances of smiting Dean. Castiel had to attempt to save Dean from that fate. Even if it was, as he recalled Dean saying once before, too little too late._

_Nodding solemnly, Cas waited for the inevitable. He was not disappointed. What had been an empty warehouse with peeling paint and danky windows was suddenly a torture chamber. Scanning the room, Castiel recognized all the usual machines. He had seen, been victim of, and unfortunately used on others, many of them. _

_His eyes quickly found a contraption that was unfamiliar, and he studied it. He looked at it with the fascination of a child looking at an insect, not one assessing the ways in which he would soon be tortured. _

_It was obviously new, from the silvery gleam that it reflected. In the center was a seat, well cushioned, which made even Castiel raise his eyebrows. It was very unlike Uriel to provide comfort to his victims. Surrounding the chair was many levers, gears, and pulleys. He could see a knob that controlled the levels of whatever it is this machine was meant to do. It only went up to ten, which was a disturbing thought. If it only went to ten, and Uriel was using it, it meant that level one was going to be bad enough. _

"_That's my latest invention," Uriel commented with a hint of pride in his voice. Castiel couldn't help but think to himself how sick someone had to be to invent something that looked so menacing and evil. Then he reminded himself that Castiel had been ordered to design some of the machinery that was in the room, and he silenced his own hypocritical thoughts. _

"_Are you ready, brother?" There was not a hint of compassion in Uriel's deep voice. If anything it was excitement. Castiel inwardly apologized to his vessel for all that he was about to go through, and nodded somberly. It was better this way than Dean being hurt._

_He wouldn't have thought that if he had known what exactly it was that Uriel's new creation did._

* * *

"Wait—he tortured you? Is there not a divine rule against that?" Dean wondered incredulously, not even attempting to cover his shock. Heaven sure was fucked up. Poor Sammy, it must be such a letdown for him.

Castiel was staring at the ground, hands resting on top of each other in his lap. His reply was sad and Dean couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow for the poor guy. "Uriel doesn't 'play by the book,' as you might say."

"Jeez, Cas. I'm sorry."

Castiel looked up. It had been so long since Dean had shown him any compassion whatsoever. Even if it was pity, Cas would take what he could get. He was going to reply, to say something reassuring back, but the moment was over as quickly as it had come. Dean went back to his normal self, all bark and bite.

"So what the hell did you do to you, anyway?" Dean asked gruffly, perhaps trying to make up for his unanticipated display of emotions moments before.

"Everything, I suppose. It was days until he was done—with the routine torture, that is. When he moved onto his own innovation he…savored it."

* * *

_Castiel had just gotten through being carved into such small pieces he was surprised Uriel was able to put them all back together. But he had great power, and he did. Just so they could start again._

_He had already been doused with gasoline and set aflame, roasting alive. And he handled it without even so much as a peep. This had angered Uriel, who wanted the satisfaction of seeing the only angel who dared disobey him scream. Castiel knew this, though, and refused to give into what Uriel desired._

_He lasted through the water boarding, which he thought was fairly human for Uriel's style. Perhaps he was running out of good ideas by that point. It had been two days since they had started, and there was only so many ways you could torture._

_They had already gone through the usual human things, such as the being hanged, the electric chair, and the slow suffering of various earthly diseases. Now Uriel was getting his evil-groove back. _

_As the pure acid washed over him, he could feel the skin and flesh of his vessel disintegrating. This made him little more than angry, for the vessel he was contained inside of had done nothing to deserve this. He would get justice for this wrong when it was over, he decided._

_Uriel got more creative and fetched Castiel his own personal brazen bull. After his was forced into the brass animal, a fire was lit beneath him. Cas was condemned to sit in it as it heated up, burning through him and killing him slowly._

_Cas said nothing as Uriel broke every bone in his body one by one, starting from the feet until he smashed in his skull. Castiel could feel the wet stickiness of blood dripping down his face, but he knew that he would heal in mere seconds, if that. Maybe if he got through this, Uriel would be able to understand just how far his feelings for Dean extended._

_It was a dim hope, but it kept him going through the seemingly never-ending agony._

_And he almost did make it through the entire thing. He had gotten so close. But eventually Uriel was so fed up with Castiel's inability to react that he called it quits. He told Cas that it was the end, he gave him that hope that maybe things would be okay again. And as Castiel let out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding, Uriel threw him with all his might into the cushioned chair of the shiny new machine._

_His head snapped to his wrists and ankles, only to find them bound to the chair with angel-binding sigils. In that moment he could practically feel his hopes flying out the window and his heart splintering. But it didn't break. He wouldn't let it. Not when there was still a chance of getting back to the Winchesters._

_Uriel sensed Castiel's crestfallen emotions, and laughed._

"_You don't know what you're in for, little brother. This is one of my best."_

_Castiel went wide-eyed, for the first time in all those days of relentless pain he felt terror fill his heart. Uriel had designed a lot of weapons and devices. If this was his worst, or as he said, he best, than he was really in for it._

_Looking back, Castiel knew that was the biggest understatement that his mind had ever made. _

_Uriel slammed the level up to ten. "Why start easy when you could just get to the good stuff so quickly!" he called, maniacally laughing. Suddenly something smashed into his chest. He felt something like a giant metal claw entering his being. Not his vessel's being, _his_ being. This was not normal for the Uriel's torture._

_And if the pain of being wounded himself wasn't bad enough, he knew the claw wasn't just going in for kicks. He could feel it digging around, searching for something. But what?_

_It clicked in Castiel, and he couldn't help but let out a scream. It was a window-shattering-eardrum-popping-full-fledged angel scream, and even Uriel looked surprised. _

_Castiel knew that the machine was searching for his Grace. He wondered vaguely through the stabbing pain what it was going to do if it found it and why God hadn't given them the ability to pass out._

_For the former, though, he didn't have to wait to long to find out. His Grace was located quickly, and metal fingers clamped down. It was a squeezing that, in a more abstract, angelic way, knocked the wind out of Cas._

_He couldn't react at all, but he didn't know what he would do if he had been able to anyway. His hands were bound down both physically and in a more supernatural view. He was stuck there as some machine manhandled his Grace. _

_As if the pain and aching of another touching his Grace—something that wasn't even alive—wasn't enough, he started to feel something deep within himself. It was very vague, but it was there. It got stronger, and Castiel could swear he could hear something despite his own screaming._

_It was almost as if something was whispering to him inside Castiel's own head._

_He tried, but was unable to shake the unsettling thought. Especially when the whispering got louder and he started to make out words. Granted, they were in Enochian, but they were words all the same._

_In a rough translation, the whispers chanted, "Dean Winchester must die, it is God's will," again and again. The words started melting into Castiel's brain, causing him to feel sick._

_The pain was lessening, though the metal hand was still clamped tight on his hot, glowing Grace. He stopped screaming, dumbfounded that something, most likely this machine, seemed to be communicating with him in Enochian. _

_But when he processed what it was that the contraption had said, his screams were back, louder than ever. _

"_No…NO!"_

_Castiel understood what was happening now, though he wished that he didn't. That human was right, ignorance is bliss. _

_Uriel had built a device that weaved its way into an angel's Grace and bent the truth inside of it on a whim. He was at the full mercy of Uriel now, who had very little, if any, compassion at all._

_This machine had found his weakness, and it was tightening around even Castiel's current thoughts like a vice. He couldn't control it, as hard as he resisted. He fought against it, a harder battle than he had ever partaken in with the angels or the Winchesters. Deep down, he knew that he would never be able to win, but Dean always told Cas that they'd 'go down fighting' in situations like this, and the angel had agreed. Castiel was determined to stay true to his word, for it might be the last thing he ever consciously chose to do._

_It was six hours before Castiel made any noise. He had lost, but his thoughts had no recollection of any battle every taking place. He opened his mouth and spoke words that weren't his own._

"_Dean Winchester must die, it is God's will."_

_Uriel smiled. He had won. No angel would dare betray him now. No angel was strong enough._


	15. Chapter 15

_It's been a long time. Too long. So sorry. Thank you so much for the reviews, and enjoy!_

Chapter Fifteen

"He poisoned you against—sonofabitch!"

Dean was standing up and pacing. The look of fury in his eyes was that to match an angel in "smiting mode," as Dean had once put it. Castiel could tell Dean was going to get worked up quickly and he would never be able to finish his story. If he kept interrupting and throwing in snarky comments they would never get done.

"Dean…I'm not done. We still haven't gotten to the part with Gabri—"

Yet again Cas was rudely interrupted by Dean's out of control temper. "Oh, Gabriel, huh? Well I don't think I need to hear the rest of the story. Gabriel can wait. We have stuff to do. Me and you are gonna go smite the shit out of Uriel."

"Dean," Castiel tried, exasperation showing through obviously in his voice. When the hunter was angry, nothing in the world could stop him from throwing himself full throttle into revenge. If Cas didn't stop it Dean might do something stupid.

"Dean!"

The loud rumble of Castiel's voice shook Dean from his mad-man musings and plots of Uriel's oncoming death. It was surprising to hear such a loud sound come from the angel, who was usually so calm and quiet. Cas was just glad he stopped muttering to himself.

"You don't have to worry about Uriel, Dean."

"What do you mean I don't have to worry about Uriel? He tortured you, Cas! He strapped down, and practically killed, a freaking angel of the Lord! How much did he fuck up your head, man? Are you still batshit crazy or something?"

Castiel tried to shake of the words. Dean wasn't trying to be mean, he knew that. He was just insensitive sometimes.

"No Dean, I am not 'batshit crazy.' Uriel is dead."

Dean started to reply, but he once he processed the information his mouth closed abruptly. Had Cas killed him? When? Dean couldn't believe all of this had happened and he hadn't never even bothered to let Cas explain. He hated his goddamn pride.

"Did you…?" he trailed off.

"It's not important right now," Castiel answered. Dean started to say something, probably pointing out that it was important to him, but Castiel stopped him. "It will all be clear when I finish telling my story. Would you let me do that, please?"

The attitude in Castiel's voice was obvious, and Dean didn't want to argue just now. He nodded and Castiel took a deep breath.

_Dean was standing in a motel room looking frustrated and antsy while his younger brother sat on a nearby bed and talked on the phone. He was calling Bobby, most likely, and probably asking if there were any leads on what had happened to Cas._

_Smiling sinisterly, Cas broke away from the window. He had seen enough. Now he just had to formulate a plan on how to get Dean alone. It was going to be hard, seeing as when Dean wasn't likely to part from Sam in a time of distress. But if he pretended that all was well…_

"_Hello."_

"_Cas! What the hell, man? Where the fuck have you been!" _

_It was more of a statement than a question, really. Dean didn't care where he had been, he was just glad that he was back. Castiel had expected this. He had to play his cards right, for Dean could easily sense when something was off with those he loved._

"_Uriel…took me. I'm back now. Is this the latest hunt?" _

_Trying to change the subject wasn't going to work that easily on Dean, though. _

"_No, dumbass. We were looking for you!"_

"_Oh, I…I'm sorry to have caused such a disturbance."_

_He had to get Dean alone. Dean Winchester had to die. It was Castiel's orders. But he still couldn't ignore that little itch in the back of his head that told him something was off. Why should he kill someone who seemed to care for him so much? What had this man done wrong? Why couldn't he remember?_

"_Whatever," retorted Dean gruffly. He wasn't going to show just how worried he had been. "Cas, can I talk to you for a minute?"_

_Dean stared pointedly at Sam. Being the dunce moose of a man that he was, it took him a good thirty seconds to get the message. Relationships always made Sam feel awkward, so he did his best to forget they existed. He made up an awkward excuse having to do with a soda and left the room hastily._

_Castiel was pleasantly surprised by the turn of events. Dean had just gotten rid of Sam himself. Things were going much better than he had planned. _

_Had he planned this, though? It didn't feel like it. What was that feeling in the back of his head? It felt like he had forgotten something very important. A life-or-death sort of something. If only he could just remember…_

"_Seriously, man. Where did you go?" Dean's voice called. He heard it vaguely through his thoughts. He wished that the stupid human would shut up so he could remember whatever it is he seemed to have forgotten. _

_It didn't make any sense. Angels don't forget things. He had been alive for nearly two thousand years now. Not once had something slipped his mind. And now this? This felt bigger than forgetting to clean the dishes or take out the trash. Much bigger. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration._

"_Cas? What is i—" Dean started. He was interrupted by a weight flying into his body. It was similar to that night when he told Castiel his feelings, but this time the aftermath wasn't as pleasant. Instead of the angel's lips against his own, he felt a stone fist hit his face._

"_What the hell? Get off me! Cas! CAS!"_

_All of a sudden every hunter bone in Dean's body was screaming. Knife! Knife! Castiel had a knife! No…an angel's blade. That was even worse. Obviously he had gone batshit crazy. There was no reasoning with him right now. Fight first, ask questions later. _

_It pained Dean to do it, both figuratively and literally (seeing as Cas was like some weirdo stone golem) but it was do or die. He shoved his hand against the blade, which in any other circumstance would have probably been the worst of his ideas._

_It wasn't though, but Castiel was in a craze now, and thought he was just an idiot. If he was hurting himself willingly, it was all the better! Less work for Castiel._

_It took him a while to notice that Dean's bloody hand was no longer flailing. In fact, it had found a place on the wall and was smearing the red liquid furiously. Before he could do anything, Dean looked up into those blue eyes he used to know so well. _

"_I don't know what happened to you, but I promise I'll help you. I'm sorry," he whispered._

_There was the thud of skin and flesh slamming onto the cheap motel wall, and then it was only light. _

"So you were trying to kill me because Uriel clawed around in your Grace?" asked Dean and Castiel nodded. He felt really slow on the uptake here, but this was one of the more confusing stories Dean had heard. Everything he had assumed was false, and now he had to piece the truth together anecdote by anecdote.

"Okay, yeah. I get that. But it still doesn't explain why the hell Gabriel was poking around in our lives."

"I'm sure you understand. You are a big brother as well."

Dean's mouth dropped open. Had he just been compared to Gabriel? The psycho-killer bad-sense-of-humor trickster-angel?

"I'm nothing like Gabriel," he snarled menacingly.

"You are. More than you know, actually. You would do anything to see Sam happy, would you not?"

"Well…Yeah…?"

"Gabriel was just doing the same for me."

Seeing Dean's confused, and somewhat shocked, expression, the angel explained.

"I was in pretty bad shape after that fight. I was sent back to Heaven, where Uriel would have signed me back up for that machine in a second. Luckily, Gabriel found me first. He felt my soul, and reversed what damage he could. Not so luckily, a small amount of negative feelings for you would still remain. It was better than wanting to kill you, though."

Dean stopped him there. Something about Castiel's little speech had troubled him. "Do you still have 'negative feelings' towards me?" He wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer.

"No, they were reversed by Gabriel before he sent us to the alternate reality."

Dean let out a large breathe of air that he had been unaware he was holding. When he thought about Castiel's recent words some more, though, his eyes narrowed.

"If you were mostly okay again, why didn't you come back?" Dean demanded.

"I wasn't at my…best. I thought it was best if you didn't see me like that."

"By 'wasn't at my best,' you mean…?"

"Gabriel did help as much as he could, but I wasn't really the same. He stayed and helped me out. He didn't really have anything else to do anyway, I suppose. I'm glad for that, though. Without him I might not have been able to be here and tell you this story. He saved my life."

Of that, Dean was skeptical. Gabriel was a deceitful angel, and usually never did anything nice unless he had an ulterior in which he benefitted. "How?"

"By sending us to alternate reality."

_Please forgive me for the weird ending, but I'm really tired and I can't stay up any longer. More updates real soon, promise._


	16. Chapter 16

_I lied. Sorry. This is the last chapter. And then I'll actually finish The Swap. And then I won't write anymore until I finish them before I put them on. Kaybye enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

"Saved our…Saved your…by…"

"I was…not myself, you see."

* * *

_So there Cas, an angel of the Lord, was. He had drunk over seventy bottles of whiskey already. It wasn't the cheap kind that took a while to get you drunk, either. It was the heavy stuff, the quality stuff. _

_And he hadn't even paid for it._

_It was so un-angle. So un-Castiel. _

_If the guy wasn't in such shitty shape, Gabriel might have even been proud._

_But, he was floundering, and something had to be done. The stupid Winchester had a hold on him, and he knew just the way to fix that. So what if Castiel told him not to get involved? He was just doing his job as an older brother, after all._

_They'd thank him later. Really, they would. _

_So taking one last look at his miserable younger brother curled on the ratty, threadbare bed of the rundown motel, he disappeared. _

_Castiel didn't even notice. He was watching some random television show and wishing his life was as simple as TV. If so, then everything would work out. They'd find some stupid loophole and his mind would be better. They'd find some stupid loophole and he would no longer feel an itching desire to kill the love of his life. They'd find some stupid loophole and no one would question it. _

_But his life wasn't TV. If it was, who would have wanted to watch it? Everything just came to shit, in the end. And if he hadn't seen it all first hand, he would have never believed in a higher power, Heaven, God, any of it. _

_Because how could all this shit happen in world where someone watched over everything?_

_But now he was rambling. Rambling even in his own mind. Now that's an accomplishment, isn't it? Sleeping would have been nice right about now. Or so he assumed, seeing as he had never really experienced sleeping. But from what he heard it was like a temporary escape. And that was just what he needed, an—"_

"—_escape? Just a quick fix? That's all it was, that's all you did it for? And now you're going to be fucked up the rest of your life. I hope the heroin was worth it, you fuck!"_

…_Heroin? That was a drug, wasn't it?_

_Was it really an escape, though?_

* * *

"You didn't!" Dean exclaimed. Cas couldn't have done drugs. That was so…un-Cas. But he wasn't answering, and that ignited a worry deep within Dean. He couldn't deal with any more withdrawals and addictions and rehabilitations. "Did you?"

Cas hung his head, just worrying Dean all the more. "…Not exactly."

"What the hell does that mean?"

* * *

_Cas had gone to the shadiest part of town he could find. He had asked around, but no one really seemed to want to sell drugs to some random in a trenchcoat. It seemed to have a suspiciously authoritative vibe to them._

_That did not dishearten Castiel, though. He was determined to find this so-called escape. And soon he did. He didn't even have to pay. He just took it. No fuss, either. When he saved the supplier of the substance from an aggressive and large man with his "mojo," he dropped his things and ran. _

_And his things included the heroin, much to Castiel's pleasure._

_Soon everything was set up. The rope-like band was tied around his arm, pushing his veins near the surface of his thin, overly fragile skin. The fluid was melted and sucked into the needle. _

_He could hear Jimmy Novak inside his head, telling him not to do this. Reminding him that it wasn't just his body. He pushed it away, who cared anyway? It wasn't like the man was ever getting that body back and living to tell the tale. _

_He jabbed the needle into his skin, not even bothering to be gentle. _

_Castiel had expected euphoria. He had expected relief from emotional pain and baggage. His wishes were not granted, though. He felt no different, besides a slight buzzing in his ears. He was sure that wasn't the intended effect of such a drug, though._

_Soon the needle was filled again, this time with more liquid. And in the needle went, harder this time. A voice in his head told him to stop, but he didn't listen. It didn't matter if it was Jimmy or his inner consciousness. Castiel didn't care anymore, he just wanted everything to be gone._

_If it wasn't a sin, he would have killed himself months ago._

_But as he finally started to feel something rushing through his body, a burning sensation, but a pleasant one, he was yanked away. It was gone, and something else was there. A body. Gabriel. Of course._

_He scowled. The relief had been so close. _

"_What do you w—"_

_He was cut off by the sight of a familiar face. Dean's face. _

"_No! I'll kill him! Take me away, take me back! NO!"_

"_Don't worry, Cas. I'm fixing you," said his older brother._

_And suddenly he wasn't Cas anymore. At least not the Cas he remembered._

* * *

"Okay, so his intentions were good. But Cas, do I need to remind you which road was paved with them?"

"You don't understand, Dean. He wasn't lying. He wasn't even exaggerating. I am fixed. I am better."

Dean was a born skeptic. He couldn't help it. Growing up the way he did, anyone would learn that miracles don't happen without something satanic behind it. And to him, this looked like one of those times.

"How?"

"When he took me there, he temporarily erased my memories. When he did, they went back to Heaven. And Uriel wasn't aware, so he didn't have them. They went back to the genuinely good part of Heaven, the part where every wants to go to. They went to my Heaven. Dean, my Heaven is you."

He would be flattered, he would think it's sweet, but now was not the time. All Dean could think about was the fact that Castiel had tried to kill him. The fact that Castiel hated him. The fact that Castiel had done drugs to get rid of any thoughts of him.

"So?"

"_So_. Since my Heaven was filled with what I remembered you as before that machine changed you in my mind, my memories remembered too. Memories are funny that way, Dean. They can learn, they can adapt, they can _remember. _They remembered you, and they changed back to the way they were."

"Everything's just the way it was, then?"

Castiel smiled. It wasn't the time to smile. He knew that he shouldn't have smiled, considering everything that had happened. But as he thought about it, he was so relieved. Not in the way he had wanted to be just mere months ago, the way he wanted relief of death. He was relieved that it had all ended. All the evil, all the cruelty.

And yes, he was relieved that everything was just the way it was.

But he knew that Dean wouldn't accept that. He knew that he Dean wouldn't accept _him_. And that might be heartbreaking for Cas, but he would tough it out, and they'd get through it. And eventually they would be the way there were, Cas could feel it.

* * *

Eight months later, two men walked through a park.

They knew the park well, though neither had been for a very long time. And as they walked, many memories came back to them.

They remembered the first time they came to the park, how they had felt mildly uncomfortable. Neither was sure if what they were doing was right, for more reasons than one. They didn't know how to act, they didn't know what to say, but despite all that they were glad to be there.

They remembered coming back just a few days later, and they were already more comfortable around each other. They held hands and ignored the looks they got. Who cared, really? Not them, not anymore.

They remembered the first time they had a picnic there, how the first had suggested it, but the other had rejected the idea, thinking it too girly. The brown haired man had kept the idea in the back of him mind though. It would be fun, he said. It would be nice, he said. It would be their secret, he said. And so finally the other gave in. And they brought a blanket, and they brought a basket, and they brought food. Then they sat down, and it was fun. And it was nice. And it was their secret. They never told anyone, but they both kept the memory.

They remembered the first time they came there after dark. They swam in the pond, and they didn't care if it was dirty. They were both buck naked, and they felt no shame. They had seen it all before, after all. The splashed and they laughed and tried to be quiet but they couldn't. they kissed while treading water in the middle, but eventually doing both got too tiring and they went underwater and kissed some more. Their limbs intertwined and it was like they were one and the same. They stayed there all night and got out around four, both of their teeth chattering through goofy grins.

They remembered the first time they camped there, and how they weren't supposed to. They were only supposed to camp in the campgrounds, not in public areas such as parks. But they did anyway. They didn't bring a tent, or food, or even sleeping bags. They brought a blanket, the same blanket they brought to that picnic. They lay down next to each other and looked up. They talked for hours, they discussed everything from childhood to their futures, and they fell asleep with their foreheads pressed together.

They remembered the way they were both so different before they met each other, and how in just a few months everything changed. They would never have thought they would do the things they did, but there they were in the park thinking about it all.

They got to the end of the pathway, they were on the edge of the pond. They stood in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't uncomfortable or forced. Then they looked up at each other, green eyes meeting blue, and something clicked within each other their minds.

They were one again, their lips passionately locked, both disregarding everything else. And together they fell into the pond, letting the memories of everything that had happened to them wash over their bodies and engulf them.

It didn't matter, nothing mattered. They were Dean and Castiel. They were the hunter and the angel. They were bonded. No one would be able to break what they had. Just let them try.


End file.
